^ii^^^m 

^^ 

wsmlk 

Wmu 

^^^^^^^^r>r 

M 

^^^.^ 

^^^^^i^^^^MA 

^^«i^-^^^^^^ 

Ifssto 

jfa^^o^g^ifgsM 

i^^^^^^'^il^V^M^^ 

^^^^ 

^j^<^^^^C^ 

^^ 

BOYS'   BOOK  OF   SPOBTB. 


•■THH    SPRING    IS    IN    THE    AIR,    AND    IN     THK    RLOOD."-Old  SONG. 


THE 


BOYS'  BOOK  OF  SPOKTS 


AND    OUTDOOE    LIFE 


EDITED    BY 


Maueice   Tiio:^[psox 


NEW-YORK:    THE    CEXTURY   CO. 

1S8(3 


Copyright,  1886.  v.x  The  Cextuky  Co. 


THE  DE  VINNE  IRKSS. 


&v 


/7/ 


PREFACE. 


/T  lias  been  the  aim  of  the  editor  and  the  pnljJishers  of  this  hook  to  r/ire  to  the 
hoys  and  the  youth  of  America  a  volume  fall  of  healthful  amusement  as  well 
as  of  useful  instruction. 

The  story  of  '^Marvin  and  His  Boy  Hunters,'^  which  opens  the  volume,  has 
been  prepared  with  the  purpose  of  teachiny  boys  of  proper  aye  how  to  carefully 
and  successfully  use  the  shot-gun.  Old  and  intelliyent  sportsmen  will,  of  course,. 
see  little  that  is  new  in  the  -manual ;  but  the  beginner  with  the  gun  ivill  find 
all  the  rules  safe  and  valuable,  and  he  can  not  too  closely  read  and  heed  them  ;  — 
on  the  one  hand,  they  will  insure  safety  from  accident,  and,  on  the  other,  they 
will  smooth  the  way  to  such  success  ((s  intelligent  and  enlightened  practice  gives 
in  any  art.  Boys  long  to  hare  guns,  and  this  is  not  nnivise,  j)rorided  they  be 
taught  the  danger  that  attends  the  use  of  such  tveapons,  and  how  to  avoid  it.  The 
natural,  healthful  impulses  and  desires  of  boyhood  and  youth  should  be  prudently 
respected.  Wh((t  a  joy  hovers  in  the  sunshine,  the  open  air,  and  over  the  fields 
and  streams  and  woods,  for  our  lusty,  bright-eyed,  tan-faced,  nimble  boys  !  Let 
them  go  at  seasonable  times  and  for  reasonable  periods,  to  get  the  very  best  that 
Xaturc  offers. 

All  boys  can  not  become  successful  naturalists,  or  explorers,  or  writers,  or  artists, 
or  specialists  in  other  lines,  but  all  can  reasonably  enjoy  and  improve  life;  all  cmi 
round  out  and  mature  character  in  the  best  lines.  Believing  in  the  maxim  ^'A 
good  boy  makes  a  good  man,"  the  editor  has  tried  to  put  into  this  book  the  helpful- 
ness of  a  cheerful  sjyirit  and  the  freshness  and  purity  of  an  outdoor  atmosphere, 
so  that  those  who  read  may  feel  the  influence  of  wind,  and  sun,  and  water,  of 
woods  and  of  birds. 

It  is  believed  that  there  is  not  anything  in  the  '"  Boy.s'  Book  of  Sports  ^^  tending  /// 
the  slightest  to  favor  a  .<ipirit  of  idleness  or  of  vain  romance.     Harmless  fun  is 


ivi84210G 


viii  PliKFA  CE. 

inihdfjed  oud  vHiorou^  exfrclsp  in  the  opfu  air  approved.  The  arficles  on  nufdoor 
life  have  been  ivritttn  hi/  experts  and  iUusfrafed  hij  artists  tJioroin/hJ)/  faniiJiar  irith 
the  subjects  in  hand. 

A  wealth  of  materials  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  editor  ht/  the  2^HJ>lishers  has  been 
culled  with  all  the  care  at  command.  Many  of  the  papers  hare  appeared  in  "St. 
Xicholas,'^  hut  some  of  them  have  never  before  been  published. 

The  book  is  offered  to  the  hojjs  of  Amerira  in  perfect  confidence  that,  no  matter 
how  old  the  boi/s,  they  will  find  much  in  it  to  cheer,  amuse,  and  instruct  them,  and 
nothing  to  work  them  harm. 

3fA  URICE  THOMPSON. 

Crawfonlsrillf.  ImJ.,  Jitlij.  1886. 


\ 


-^ 


""     -%-     ?5-  >v- 

>-  *    ^       '^'" 
-f    T  -^  *  "-^ 


TABLE    or   COXTEXTS. 


Introductory:  The  Benefits  and  Abuse  of  Outdoor  Sports.    .    .    .  xii 

Marvin  and  His  Boy  Hunters Mnarhc  Thompson    .    .  1 

Chapter  I.    Considering  the  Question 1 

II.    Uncle  Charley  from  Tennessee •"' 

III.  Uncle  Charley  meets  an  old  Friend 12 

IV.  Marvin,  the  Market-hunter 18 

V.    A  Lesson  in  Woodcock  Shooting- 23 

VI.    Hugh's  First  Bird      29 

VII.    Mr.  Marvin  talks  about  Market-hunting :]2 

VIII.   In  the  Prairie  Weeds 38 

IX.    A  new  Prospect  opens  to  the  Boys 44 

X.   Away  to  the  South 48 

XI.    Around  a  Camp-fire •')4 

XII.    Over  the  Mountain 59 

XIII.  Samson  describes  the  Battle 03 

XIV.  Among  the  Quails      66 

XV.   Camp-chat 72 

XVI.   Neil  Shoots  Big  Oame 76 

XVII.   Neil  goes  into  a  Den 82 

XVIII.   Neil  and  his  Bear 86 


X  TABLE    OF  CONTENTS. 

Page. 

XIX.    Getting  ready  for  Florida 91 

XX.   Drifting  along  the  Coast 95 

XXI.   Among  the  Florida  Birds 100 

XXII.   A  Sudden  Departure 106 

XXIII.  Up  the  Caloosahatchee.     A  Panther 110 

XXIV.  The  Pickets  Driven  In 117 

XXV.    Rules  for  Handling  the  (Inn  in  Wing-.shooting 122 

XXVI.    How  Judge's  Nose  was  Bitten 126 

XXVII.    Home  Again 130 

Hints  on  Tkap-shooting Maurice  Thompson        .  133 

FISHING. 

Fly-fishing  for  Black  Bass Maurice  Tho))ij)soii    .    .  141 

Fly-fishing  for  Troi:t Bipley  Hitchcocl-    .    .    .  149 

A  Royal  Fish Biplei/  Hitchcoch    .    .    .  159 

Odd  Modes  of  Fishing Daniel  C.  Beard    ...  171 

ARCHERY. 

The  Bow  and  its  Use Maurice  Thompson    .    .  177 

An  Archer  Among  the  Herons Maurice  Thompson    .    .  189 

lUJATS    AND    IU3ATING. 

S.ALVLL  Boats:  How  to  Rig  and  Sail  Them  .    .   Charles  LedyariJ  Xorton.  199 

How  TO  Make  a  Boat Frederic  G.  Mather   .    .  211 

How  to  Build  a  Catamaran W.  L.  Alden 215 

Flat-boating  for  Boys Daniel  V.  Beard    .    .    .  222 


(]a:mp8  and  campers. 

How  TO  Camp  Out Danitl  C.  Beard    . 

The  School  in  the  Woods -    .    .  Maurice  Thompson 

How  TO  Camp  Out  at  the  Beach      Frank  F.  Clark  .    . 

The  Boys'  Paradise Flizahefh  Jialch  .    . 

A  Boys'  Camp One  of  the  Campers 


233 
241 
246 


TABLE    OF  COXTKXTS.  .  xi 


SAVIM.MIN(;   \S\)   W  ALlviN( 


l'A<iK. 


A  Talk  About  Swni.Mixii Sauford  11.  llnnt   .    .    .  2(j!) 

Walking  and  Ridlvg Chu-hs  M.  ^Skinner  .    .  277 

How  TO  Run Theodore  B.  Willson  .    .  28G 

TTTK    CAArEPvA. 

The  Amatfa'r  Camera AJcxandfr  lihu-k    .    .    .  291 

WIXTEll   spoirr. 

Toboggans  and  their  Use Frederick  (!.  Martin    .  :50.') 

How  TO  Make  an  Ice-boat f.  H.  Huhhard    ....  oOi) 

Every  Boy  His  Own  Ice-boat Charles  Ledijard  Xorton.  314 

Fish-spearing  Through  the  Ice J.  0.  Roorhach   ....  820 

OLTTDOOR    SKETCHES. 

Hunting  Jack-Rabbits ^^IJ  <i  J^'>!/ '^-^ 

Landing  the  'Longe Frederick  Ford  ....  334 

How  Science  Won  the  Game Geon/e  B.  M.  Harrri/    .  339 

Chapter  I.    The  Conference 339 

II.    The  Curves 341 

III.    The  Game 345 

Index 348 


THE  BENEFITS  AXD  THE  ABUSE  OF 
OUTDOOR  SPOKTS. 


I 


T  is  fair  to  assume  that  liealtby  boys  grow  up  to  be  healthy 
men,  in  cases  where,  during  their  growth,  they  are  given  a 
reasonable  opportunity  for  such  mental  and  physical  recreation 
as  will  keep  the  fountains  of  life  clean  and  active. 

Every  boy  should  be  taught  to  fully  understand  the  dignity 
of  labor,  and  to  comprehend  the  necessity  of  drudgery  and 
patient,  humble  persistence  in  the  pursuit  of  a  worthy  am- 
bition. But  sports  of  an  active,  outdoor  sort  are  so  heartily 
craved  and  so  keenly  enjoyed  by  strong  and  wide-awake  boys, 
that,  aside  from  the  mere  question  of  health,  it  would  seem 
harsh  to  deprive  them  of  it,  unless  some  sufficient  reason  could 
be  offered  for  so  doing.  The  play-ground,  as  it  is  often  limited 
by  well-meaning  parents  and  teachers,  is  very  unsatisfactory. 

Outdoor  play  should  have  a  better  purpose  in  it  than  sim- 
ply to  kill  time.  There  are  but  two  ways  to  knowledge, —  one 
is  through  the  direct  study  of  Nature;  the  other  is  through 
the  study  of  Nature  at  second-hand,  by  means  of  l)ooks  and  teachers.  These 
two  ways  should,  as  nearly  as  possible,  be  nuide  one. 

Knowledge  gained  during  the  hours  of  recreation  falls  into  the  mind,  as  the 
dew  falls  into  a  fiowei-,  by  the  grace  of  Nature.  The  young  mind  is  so  receptive 
and  responsive  that  it  needs  only  a  little  judicious  directing  and  restraining  in 
order  to  take  in  and  assimilate  a  vast  amount  of  the  raw  nuxterial  of  wisdom. 

The  abuse  of  sport  is  like  the  abuse  of  wholesome  food:  it  creates  an  unnat- 
ural appetite  that  leads  to  great  harm.  But,  on  tlie  other  hand,  a  reasonabU' 
indulgence  in  such  outdoor  recreations  as  are  varied  and  properly  exciting  in 
their  nature,  stimulates  and  strengthens,  like  wholesome  food  judiciously  tak»'n. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  outdoor  exercise,  especially  where  it  extends 
to  occasional  excursions  tln-ough  fields  and  woods,  assists  in  the  formation  of 


THE   BENEFITS  AND    THE   ABUSE    OF    OlIUOOU    SJ'Oins.  xiiL 

the  liabit  of  close  ()1)servati<»ii  and  a  rori-.-ct  iiiodr  of  t liiiikiii<;-.  'I'Ih-  mere 
1>ook-kii()wled<ice  of  the  student  is  (^^iveu  a  freshness  more  like  that  <»f  Xatui-c, 
by  blending-  with  it  the  freedom  eau^^ht  from  the  lil)eral  su^g:estions  of  the 
growth,  the  coh)r,  the  eonibinations,  aiicl  perspeetive  of  o1)jeets  and  scenes  in 
the  open  air. 

Boj's  should  learn,  under  careful  and  skillful  teachers,  Ikjw  to  sail  a  boat,  to 
row,  to  swim,  to  cast  a  fly,  and  to  shoot  with  the  gun.  As  a  rule,  accidents 
happen  only  to  the  untrained  and  careless.  It  requires  great  (^are  to  become 
skillful  in  any  art ;  therefore,  the  skillful  man  is  apt  to  l)e  a  careful  one. 

Absolute  pr()hil)ition  often  tends  to  create  desire  for  the  thing  prohibited, 
where,  in  a  majority  of  cases,  if  a  judicious  indulgence  were  permitted,  no 
tendency  toward  excess  would  be  engendered.  The  appetite  in  l)oys  for  stii-ring 
sports  is  a  natural  and  proper  one,  and  there  is  no  surer  sign  of  physical  mor))i(l- 
ness  than  a  decided  indifference  to  the  allurements  of  acttive  exercise  in  the  open 
air.  On  the  other  hand,  one  of  the  strongest  indications  of  healthful  and 
promising  vigor,  alike  in  mind  and  of  })ody,  is  the  restless  desire  to  be  out  and 
about  in  the  wind  and  the  sunshine.  Of  course  there  must  be  method  and 
restraint  exercised  by  parents,  teachers,  and  guardians,  in  order  to  prevent 
aimless  habits  or  willful  desire  for  excessive  indulgence  in  mere  play. 

Most  boys  will  be  satisfied  with  a  very  moderate  liberty  in  outdoor  recrea- 
tions, if  a  fair  share  of  good  literature,  pure  and  breezy,  suited  to  their  natural 
tastes,  be  furnished  for  their  reading.  Truthful,  well-written  accounts  of 
adventure  and  observation  by  "flood  and  field"  have  a  decided  and  lasting 
charm  for  boys,  and  may  be  read  without  any  such  results  as  flow  from  the 
secret  and  forbidden  devouring  of  impossible  and  crime-steeped  dime  novels. 
From  the  most  ancient  times  this  taste  for  sports  has  been  recognized  as  numly, 
and  the  youth  of  all  the  most  enterprising  nations  have  been  carefully  educated 
to  endure  and  delight  in  vigorous  ])odily  exercise. 

As  a  rule,  the  boy  who,  by  fair  and  honorable  means,  excels  in  the  plays  and 
sports  in  which  he  engages,  will  be  found  in  after  life  excelling  in  laudable 
business  enterprises  with  the  same  cleanness  of  method  and  su]ipleness  of 
action. 

Sedentary  pursuits  are  far  more  apt  to  induce  that  weakness  of  nerve  and  of 
will-power  which  makes  the  inroads  of  vice  easy,  than  are  those  that  give  active 
exercise  in  the  open  air;  as  a  fortification  against  temptation,  therefore,  it  is 
wise  to  allow  boys  all  the  outdoor  sports  possil)le,  consistent  with  a  fair 
amount  of  study  and  work. 

The  greatest  scientists,  philosophers,  artists,  and  poets  of  the  world  in  all  ages 
have  been  ready  to  bear  testimony  to  the  debt  they  have  owed  to  "  outdoor 
observations  " ;  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  lamentable  abuses  of  the  sportsnum's 
privileges  that  so  few  examples  of  the  note-book-keeping  amateur  are  found 
among  those  who  annually  spend  their  vacations  by  field  and  flood.     Every  boy 


xiv  TUK  BENEFITS  AXI)    THE  ABUSE   OF   OFTDOOIi   SPOUTS. 

should  be  impressed  witli  the  value  of  the  habit  of  reducing  to  systematie  record 
careful  and  minute  observations  of  whatever  falls  under  his  eyes  during  the 
course  of  his  rambles.  Facts  are  the  valuable  crystals  in  the  intellectual  mine, 
and  a  great  and  well-arranged  collection  of  such  facts  constitutes  mental  wealth. 
A  few  boys,  aware  of  this,  seem  naturally  to  grow  into  the  Darwins,  the  Hum- 
boldts,  the  Newtons,  the  Emersons,  the  Shaksperes,  the  (jroethes,  the  Hugos,  the 
Napoleons. 

No  man  is  liljerally  educated  who  does  not  know  as  much  about  Nature  as  he 
does  about  books,  no  matter  how  great  his  culture  is.  The  school  of  the  woods 
and  liills  and  fields  and  streams  is  that  from  which  our  greatest  thinkers  have 
been  graduated. 

But  mere  angling  for  the  wanton  pleasure  of  killing  the  largest  number  of  fish, 
or  mere  shooting  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  the  greatest  possible  quantity  of 
game,  or  mere  training  with  the  low  aim  of  becoming  a  "  champion"  athlete, 
can  not  fall  within  the  golden  limit  of  healthful  sport.  True  sport  gives  a 
fresher  atmosphere  for  thought ;  it  lets  the  sunshine  and  the  dew  and  the  per- 
fumes of  morning  into  our  lives ;  it  makes  us  cheerful  and  liberal ;  it  spreads 
within  us  horizons  as  wide  as  those  we  see  in  our  open-air  rambles;  it  sends  us 
back  to  the  necessary  drudgery  of  our  pursuits,  full  of  pluck  and  life  and  ^-im. 

Sports  should  not  be  allowed  to  become  the  whole  or  any  large  part  of  our 
existence,  but  they  should  be  used,  just  as  is  medicine,  when  needed,  or  as 
wise  men  use  luxuries. 


maryi:n"  and  his  boy  hunteks. 


MARVIN  AND   HIS   BOY  HUNTERS, 


By  Maurice  Thompson, 


CONSIDERING  THE  QUESTION. 

TWO  stroll  o'j  fair-haired,  blue-eyed  boys  approached  their  father  as  he  sat  by 
his  pleasant  library  window  reading. 

"Father,"  said  the  older  bo}^,  a  youth  of  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  '^  we  have 
something  very  serious,  Hugh  and  I,  that  we  wish  to  submit  to  you." 

"  And  what  is  it,  Neil  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Burton,  lifting  his  kind  eyes  from  his 
book,  and  looking  first  at  Neil  and  then  at  Hugh,  as  they  stood  flushed  and 
excited  before  him. 

"  We  wish  you  would  let  us  go  to  a  new  sort  of  school,''  said  Neil. 

"Well,  what  sort  of  school  is  it?"  Mr.  Burton  demanded,  in  his  usual 
cheery  tone. 

"  Oh,  it 's  a  shooting  school,"  cried  Hugh,  who  was  a  quick,  impulsive  boy ; 
"  it 's  going  to  be  immense,  so  Tom  Dale  says ;  and  Ed  Jones  is  going,  and " 

"  Hold  on,  Hugh,"  said  Neil,  gently  interrupting  him ;  '*■  let  me  explain  the 
whole  thing  to  father,  so  that  he  can  understand.  You  see,  there  's  a  man  who 
has  a  shooting  gallery " 

A  decided  frown  from  IMr.  Burton  cut  Neil's  enthusiastic  description  short. 
For  more  than  a  year  the  boys  had  been  begging  for  a  gun,  and  the  kind 
father  had  exhausted  his  ingenuity  in  the  effort  to  invent  a  sufficient  number 
of  excuses  for  not  promptly  meeting  their  desires.  In  fact,  Mr.  Burton  did  not 
like  guns  himself,  and  was  very  much  opposed  to  allowing  boys  to  handle  fire- 


2  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

arms.  As  is  the  case  in  most  villa«jes,  there  had  been  in  Belair,  where  our  story 
begins,  two  or  three  distressing  accidents  through  the  carelessness  of  boys  with 
guns,  and  it  made  a  chill  creep  up  the  father's  back  to  think  of  trusting  one  of 
his  dear  boys  to  the  chances  of  such  dangers.  Of  course,  Neil  and  Hugh  did 
not  stop  to  reason  about  the  matter.  Other  boys  had  guns.  Only  the  day 
before,  George  Roberts,  a  young  playmate  of  theirs,  had  brought  in  half  a  dozen 
meadow-larks,  killed  with  his  single-barreled  shot-gun  at  his  father's  country- 
place.  They  had  listened  to  George's  enthusiastic  descrijjtiou  of  his  day's  sport, 
until  that  night  they  di'eamed  it  all  over  again. 

"  It  hardly  seems  fair  that  we  can't  have  such  fun,"  Hugh  had  said  to  Neil, 
after  George  had  gone. 

"  Of  course,  father  is  right,"  said  Neil,  who  was  a  proud,  honorable  boy ;  ''  but 
I  don't  see  why  guns  can't  be  made  safe  for  boys." 

"  They  are  safe,"  insisted  Hugh.  "  I  know  perfectly  well  that  I  'd  never  hurt 
myself  or  any  one  else  with  a  gun  if  I  had  one.  What 's  the  use  of  being  care- 
less ?    I  don't  see  any  excuse  for  all  these  accidents." 

"  That 's  what  I  say,  too,"  said  Neil.  ^'  If  you  keep  the  muzzle  of  the  gun 
pointed  away  from  yourself,  how  is  it  going  to  shoot  you,  I  'd  like  to  know  ? " 

But  now  a  man  had  fitted  up  a  "  shooting  school"  in  the  village,  and  the  boys 
■were  all  anxious  to  go.  For  five  cents,  a  boy  could  shoot  three  times  at  a  target ; 
and  the  big-lettered  bills  posted  here  and  there  announced  that  extreme  care 
would  be  taken  to  prevent  accident.  ''  Surely,"  thought  Neil  and  Hugh,  "  Father 
ivill  not  o])ject  to  our  trying  our  hands  once  or  twice  in  a  safe  shooting  school." 

But  Mr.  Burton  did  object  very  promptly,  and  in  a  tone  so  decided  that  the 
Tsoys  turned  dolefuUy  away.  He  called  them  back,  however,  and  explained  to 
them  that  a  shooting  gallery  was  a  place  where  all  sorts  of  rough  fellows  congre- 
gated, some  of  whom  would  bet  and  swear,  and  that  it  was  no  place  for  good  boys. 

"  I  did  n't  know  that,"  said  Neil ;  ^'  I  thought  it  would  be  all  right,  and  —  and 
I  —  I  wanted  to  learn  to  shoot,  like  other  boys." 

Mr.  Burton  looked  steadily  at  the  boys.  He  was  a  very  kind  man,  and  loved 
liis  children  dearly.  It  was  because  he  loved  them  that  he  had  so  long  refused 
to  allow  them  to  have  a  gun.  He  had  always  believed  that  a  dog  and  a  gun 
could  ruin  any  boy,  especially  if  the  boy  had  his  own  way.  No  doubt,  in  a 
measure,  he  was  right.  Boys  need  the  directing  care  of  grown-up  men  in  almost 
every  pursuit,  particularly  where  danger  is  involved  and  where  some  fearful 
accident  may  result  from  the  slightest  mismanagement. 

"  Boys,  will  nothing  satisfy  you  but  guns  ?  "  Mr.  Burton  said  this  in  a  hope- 
less sort  of  tone  that  brought  a  quick  flush  to  Neil's  cheek. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  can  ever  be  satisfied  without  a  gun,"  eagerly  exclaimed 
Hugh. 

"  Well,  I  can,"  said  Neil,  proudly.  "  If  it  is  n't  right  for  me  to  have  a  gun, 
I  '11  try  and  not  want  one." 


MARVIN  AND   HIS  BOY  IIUXTKRS.  3 

"  But  it  is  right,"  insisted  Huuh,  going:  nearer  Mr.  Burton,  "All  tlie  hoys 
that  amount  to  anythin<^  liavo  «^uns.     Philo  Lucas  has  a  dou})le-barreled  one." 

Neil  was  amazed  at  Hugli's  energetic  way  of  pushing;  the  matter  ;  he  looked 
at  Mr.  Burton  to  see  how  it  impressed  him. 

"  I  heard  a  man  say  not  long  ag-o,"  remarked  the  father,  ''  that  he  thought 
he  should  have  to  prosecute  Philo  Lucas." 

"  Oh  !    What  for  ? "  both  boys  inquired  in  a  breath. 

"  For  killing  robins  and  meadow-larks,  which  is  against  the  law." 

'^  Meadow-hirks  !     Is  it  unlawful  to  shoot  meadow-larks  ? "  cried  Hugh. 

"  Yes  ;  and  all  other  insect-eating  birds  not  in  the  list  of  game-birds,"  replied 
Mr.  Burton. 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  as  it  flashed  into  their  minds  that  George 


It  flashed  into  their  minds  tliat  (ieorgc  Ivoberts  was  a  law-breaker." 


Roberts  was  a  law-breaker  and  liable  to  be  fined  or  imprisoned  for  killing  those 
meadow-larks. 

*'  But  we  wont  shoot  any  of  those  little  birds,"  Hugh  hurried  to  say  ;  ''  we  '11 
shoot  quails  and  ducks  and  snipe  and " 

"  What  will  we  shoot  them  with  ? "  said  Neil,  smiling  rather  grimly. 

''Oh,  but  Papa  will  buy  us  some  guns!  Wont  you,  Papaf "  cried  the  enthusi- 
astic Hugh. 


4  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

Mr.  Biirton  rose  aud  put  his  book  on  a  table.  His  face  wore  a  troubled 
expression.  It  was  plain  to  him  that  a  crisis  in  his  boys'  lives  had  been  reached, 
and  that  they  must  be  helped  safely  over  it. 

One  thing  was  sure,  he  could  not  consent  to  allow  Neil  aud  Hugh  to  be  run- 
ning over  the  country  with  guns  in  their  hands,  with  no  safe  person  to  direct 
and  restrain  thein. 

He  walked  back  and  forth  for  a  while,  the  boys  eying  him  half  lioi)efully, 
half  despairingly.     Presently  he  said  : 

''Neil,  will  you  and  Hugh  promise  me  that,  if  I  consider  this  question  of  guns 
carefully  and  conscientiously  with  a  view  to  your  best  interests,  you  will  cheer- 
fully abide  by  my  decision  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes  !  "  cried  Hugh  in  a  second  ;  "  and  I  want  mine  a  double-barrel, 
with  engraved  locks,  and  a  pistol-grip  to  the  stock  !  " 

Mr.  Burton  smiled,  in  spite  of  the  gravity  of  the  situation.  Neil  laughed,  too, 
at  Hugh's  sanguine  forwardness. 

"  I  shall  want  ten  days  of  time  to  study  this  subject,''  said  Mr.  Bm*ton  ;  "  and 
at  the  end  of  that  time,  I  shall  decide  guns  or  no  guns,  and  the  matter  is  then 
to  be  at  final  rest." 

'•  Yes,  sir,"  said  Neil;  "  I  shall  be  satisfi.ed  with  your  decision,  for  I  know  that 
you  know  best." 

"■  Oh,  Papa,  but  you  must  u't  decide  against  us.  I  do  want  a  gun  so  much, 
and  I  '11  be  so  careful !  "  cried  Hugh,  almost  trembling. 

Mr.  Burton  dismissed  his  sons,  promising  to  study  the  subject  of  guns  for 
boys  very  carefully,  and  to  let  them  know  his  conclusion  at  the  end  of  ten  days. 
He  was  a  conscientious,  prudent  man,  full  of  keen  sympathies  Avith  the  tastes  of 
healthy  boys,  and  he  greatly  desired  to  give  the  fullest  scope  consistent  with 
safety  to  the  development  of  strong,  manly  natures  in  Neil  and  Hugh.  He  had 
never  been  able  to  join  in  any  field-sports  himself,  owing  to  a  lame  knee,  and 
consequently  he  knew  very  little  about  guns  or  their  use.  He  had  often 
imagined,  however,  what  excitement  there  must  be  in  following  the  bevies  of 
game-birds  from  field  to  field  in  the  crisp  autumn  weather,  or  in  flushing  the 
swift-winged  woodcock  from  marshy  thickets  in  July.  He  had  the  sportsnum's 
instincts,  but  his  unfortunate  lameness  had  shut  off  from  him  any  active  partici- 
pation in  the  sportsman's  pleasures.  This,  no  doubt,  served  to  strengthen  his 
desire  to  see  his  boys  have  all  the  freedom  that  the  accident  of  his  life  had 
denied  to  him. 

So  Mr.  Burton  began  a  systematic  examination  of  the  subject  of  allowing 
boys  to  learn  the  use  of  fire-arms.  He  consulted  with  sportsmen  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other  with  men  who  opposed  field-sports.  He  carefully  weighed 
all  the  arguments  of  both  sides.  He  tried  to  make  of  himself  an  impartial 
judge;  but  it  was  no  easy  matter.  His  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  his  sons, 
the  well-known  danger  of  fire-arms,  the  tendency  of  too  much  indulgence  in 


MARVIN  AND  HIS  BOY  JIUNTEIiS.  5 

field-sports  toward  idleness  and  an  unainl)iti()us  life,  and  the  earnest  protest  of 
some  of  his  most  trusted  friends  against  allowinj^  boys  to  have  guns,  w(juld 
overbalance  his  desire  to  please  Neil  and  Hugh. 

When  the  ten  days  had  passed,  the  decision  had  been  reached,  however,  and 
what  it  was  will  be  told  in  the  next  chapter. 


find  time 
out  upon 
clined  to 


11. 


UNCLE  CHARLEY  FROM  TENNESSEE. 

WHILE  Mr.  Burton  was  in  the  depth  of 
his  dilemma  about  guns,  his  brother 
Charles,  whom  Neil  and  Hugh  had  always 
called  Uncle  Charley,  came,  on  a  visit, 
from  his  plantation  home  in  Tennessee. 
It  was  the  day  before  the  ten  days'  limit 
allowed  for  Mr.  Burton's  decision  when 
Uncle  Charley  arrived,  bringing  his  gun 
with  him.  Almost  the  first  thing  he  said 
was  : 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  nearest  prairie  ? 
Are  the  prairie-chickens  as  plentiful  as 
usual  this  season  ? " 

He  was  an  inveterate  sportsman.  Neil 
and  Hugh  were  delighted.  They  felt  sure 
that  Uncle  Charley  would  use  his  influence 
with  their  father  in  favor  of  letting  then> 
learn  to  shoot. 

He  was  a  tall,  dark   man  with  a  long 

moustache  and  curly  black  hair,  very  kind 

and  gentle  in  his  manner,  and  exceedingly 

fond  of  boys,  though  he  was  a  bachelor. 

Of  course,  he   had   a   great  deal  to   talk 

.....  w^..>,^.  about  with   Mr.   Burton   before  he   could 

to  say  much  to  Neil  and  Hugh,  who  were  longing  to  draw  liim 

the  subject  nearest  tlieir  hearts.     But  Hugh,  who  was  always  in- 

be  irrepressible,  would  manage  now  and  then   to  slip  in   a  word 


6 


BOYS'    BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 


or  two  about  guus  aud  himtiug.     Neil,  who  was  older  and  steadier,  wisely  held 
his  tougue. 

It  was  a  moment  of  breathless  interest  when  Mr.  Burton,  without  any 
preliminaries  whatever,  suddenly  said  to  his  brother  in  the  hearing  of  the 
boys : 

''  Charles,  I  have  a  gun  question  that  I  must  settle  for  Neil  and  Hugh,  and  I 
want  your  advice." 

''  Well,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  blandly,  ''  what  is  the  nature  of  the  question  ?" 

^'  Are  the  boys  large  enough  to  be  trusted 
with  shot-guns  ?  Ought  they  to  be  allowed 
to  have  them  ? " 

Mr.  Burton  put  these  questions  with  in- 
tense gravity  of  voice  and  manner.  Uncle 
Charley  looked  at  Neil  and  Hugh,  and  smil- 
ingly shook  his  head. 

''  Rather  small,  rather  small,"  he  promptly 
replied. 

Neil  turned  pale,  and  the  tears  actually 
sprang  into  Hugh's  eyes. 

"  That  is  just  my  opinion,"  said  Mr.  Bur- 
ton ;  "■  I  have  been  considering  the  matter 
for  some  days.  The  boys  have  been  asking 
me  to  buy  them  guns.  They  promised  to 
stand  manfully  by  my  decision,  and  I  am 
glad  that  you,  who  know  so  much  about 
guns  and  shooting,  have  helped  to  confirm 
me  in  my  first  impression." 

"  The  boys  are  rather  small,"  said  Uncle 
Charley,  reflectively  ;  ''  but  I  don't  know, — 
they  look  like  careful,  sensible  lads.  How  old 
are  you,  Neil  ?  " 

"  I  am  past  fifteen,  sir,"  the  boy  replied,  with  a  touch  of  pride  in  his  tone. 

"And  I  'm  thirteen,  going  on  fourteen,"  cried  Hugh. 

A  tender,  sympathetic  light  had  come  into  Uncle  Charley's  face.  He  fully 
appreciated  the  hopes  and  fears  of  his  young  kinsmen.  He  himself  had  all  the 
feelings  of  a  grown-up  boy. 

"Suppose  we  sleep  over  this  question,"  he  said  to  IMr.  Burton,  "and  possibly 
we  may  see  through  it  more  clearly  in  the  morning." 

By  this  time,  Hugh's  heart  was  jumping  and  thumping  so,  that  he  was  sure 
Uncle  Charley  would  hear  it.  As  for  Neil,  he  gave  Uncle  Charley  a  grateful 
look,  which  was  perfectly  understood. 

That  night,  the  boys  lay  in  their  bed  aud  talked  over  the  probabilities. 


The  boys  are  rather  small,"  said 
Uncle  Charley. 


MARVIN  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS.  7 

"  Oh,  I  'in  sure  wc  '11  <z:et  our  <iuns  now,"  said  Hugh.  "  Uncle  Cliarley  is  on 
our  side ;  I  saw  that ;  and  he  '11  have  influence  with  papa." 

"If  father  has  n't  already  made  up  his  mind,  you  are  right,"  assented  Neil-, 
"  but  if  he  has  decided  against  us,  Uncle  Charley  never  can  change  him." 

"  It  would  be  too  bad  if  all  our  hopes  and  plans  should  fall  through  now, 
would  n't  it  ? "  said  Hugh. 

"  Yes,  but  we  'd  really  he  no  worse  off.  We  've  always  had  a  good  time,  you 
know,"  philosophized  Neil. 

Greatly  to  the  disappointment  of  the  boys,  neither  Mr.  Burton  nor  Uncle 
Charley  mentioned  guns  or  shooting  next  morning.  Quite  early,  the  gentlemen 
drove  away  from  the  house,  and  did  not  return  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  Then 
some  friends  came  to  dine,  and  the  l>oys  had  to  go  to  bed  again  without  any 
further  information. 

''  They  have  gone  and  forgotten  all  about  it,"  grumbled  Hugh.  *'  It 's  just  like 
men ;  they  don't  think  a  boy  is  worth  noticing." 

"  It  does  look  as  if  we  are  in  for  a  little  disappointment,"  said  Neil ;  "  but 
there  's  no  way  of  helping  it  that  I  see.  We  '11  just  have  to  wait  and  be  con- 
tented with  what  we  have." 

"  But  I  can't  be  contented,  and  it  's  no  use  trying,"  cried  Hugh.  '^  It  does 
seem  too  bad  for  anything." 

"I  guess  father  had  made  up  his  mind  sound  and  solid  l)efore  Uncle  Charley 
came,"  said  Neil,  ''  and  so  the  matter  will  be  dropped  right  where  it  is." 

"  Why,  I  thought  I  could  almost  feel  a  gun  in  my  hands  when  Uncle  Charley 
said  to  papa,  'Suppose  we  sleep  over  this  question.'  I  w^as  perfectly  sure  it 
was  all  right  then;  were  n't  you,  Neil?''  queried  Hugh. 

So  two  or  three  days  passed  by,  until  at  last,  one  morning.  Uncle  Charley  had 
everything  ready  to  go  to  the  prairie  to  hunt  prairie-chickens.  Then,  all  of  a 
sudden,  he  said  to  Neil,  as  if  the  thought  had  just  occurred  to  him: 

" How  would  you  and  Hugh  like  to  go  along  with  me?" 

Hugh  jumped  as  if  something  had  stung  him,  and  Neil  was  quite  as  much 
surprised. 

"  I  should  like  it  ever  so  much,"  the  latter  replied. 

"  But  we  have  n't  any  guns,"  exclaimed  Hugh. 

'^  Oh,  well,  you  can  watch  me  shoot,  and  you  can  carry  game  for  me,  and  lid]) 
drive  the  wagon,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  cheerfully.  '"There'll  be  lots  of  fun 
besides  shooting." 

Of  course,  the  boys  did  not  need  a  second  invitation.  Half  a  loaf  was  much 
better  than  no  bread  at  all.  If  they  could  n't  have  guns  of  their  own,  they 
need  not  refuse  to  go  and  watch  Uncle  Charley  shoot.  Then  the  drive  out 
to  the  prairie  and  a  week  spent  in  the  open  air  would  be  jolly  sport.  Just  how 
much  fun  two  healthy,  good-natured  boys  may  get  out  of  such  an  excursion  can 
not  be  exactly  measured.    There  is  the  sunshine,  and  there  are  the  blue  sky,  the 


8  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

grass  like  a  green  sea,  the  vast  fields  of  corn,  the  cool  wind,  the  freedom  —  it 
needs  a  boy  to  fully  appreciate  such  things. 

Neil  and  Hugh  forgot  their  disapjjointment  in  the  matter  of  the  guns,  and 
entered  joyfully  into  the  spirit  of  the  trip  to  the  jirairie. 

Two  wagons  had  been  made  ready :  one,  for  the  dogs  and  camp  utensils, 
which  was  to  be  driven  by  a  man  who  was  also  to  serve  as  cook  ;  and  one  with 
springs,  for  Uncle  Charley  and  the  boys.  When  they  started  out  of  the  village, 
many  of  their  young  friends  looked  wistfully  after  them,  as  if  they,  too,  would 
like  to  be  in  the  party. 

Neil  and  Hugh  waved  their  hats  and  shouted  good-bj^e  as  the  wagons  clattered 
over  the  graveled  street  past  the  village  store  and  post-office.  They  were  soon 
out  in  the  open  country,  in  a  wide  lane  between  green  hedges,  with  fields  on 
either  hand,  and  farm-houses  showing  here  and  there  among  the  orchards. 

It  was  mid- August  and  the  sun  shone  fiercely ;  but  a  breeze  came  off  the 
prairie,  cool  and  sweet,  smelling  of  stubble  and  wild  grass. 

The  horses  that  di'ew  the  wagons  were  strong,  well-fed  animals,  anxious  to  go; 
and  Uncle  Charley  let  them  trot  along  briskly,  for  he,  too,  was  chafing  with 
every  moment's  delay.  He  had  visions  of  large  coveys  of  prairie-chickens  in 
his  mind,  and,  with  all  a  Southern  sportsman's  enthusiasm,  was  longing  to  loose 
his  dogs  and  handle  his  trusty  gun. 

Uncle  Charley's  gun  was  a  breech-loader  of  the  finest  English  make,  with 
beautiful  Damascus  steel  barrels,  engraved  lock-plates,  walnut  stock,  and  re- 
bounding locks.  Hugh  took  it  in  his  hands,  and  was  surprised  to  find  how 
light  it  was. 

"  Why,  this  gun  would  just  suit  me,"  he  exclaimed,  in  surprise.  ''I  could 
handle  it  without  any  trouble,  I'm  sure.  How  much  did  it  cost  you,  Uncle 
Charley  ? " 

"  Four  hundred  dollars,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Whew  !  "  whistled  Hugh,  looking  rather  wildly  at  Neil.  ''  No  wonder  papa 
don't  care  to  buy  us  guns  !  It  would  take  eight  hundred  dollars  to  get  us  one 
apiece ! " 

Uncle  Charley  smiled,  all  to  himself,  in  a  sort  of  mysterious  Avay,  as  if  he  were 
thinking  of  something  he  did  not  desire  to  talk  about. 

Meantime,  the  wagons  clattered  along  the  smooth  road,  the  horses'  feet  raising 
a  cloud  of  dust,  which  shone  almost  like  gold  in  the  early  morning  sunlight. 
The  big  wagon  that  held  the  dogs  and  camp  things  was  beliind,  and  this  cloud 
of  dust  sometimes  nearly  hid  it  from  view,  the  man  and  the  dogs  looking, 
through  the  film,  like  those  dim  figures  some  artists  put  into  the  backgrounds 
of  their  sketches. 

As  they  passed  along  between  the  farins  —  those  l)road,  lil)eral,  fertile  farms 
of  the  West  —  they  saw  steam-threshing  machines  puffing  away  out  in  the 
fields,  in  the  midst  of  stacks  of  wheat  and  rye,  where  men  and  boys  were  work- 


MABVIN  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS. 


in^  hard  in  the  flying  chaff  and  tnmhling  straw.  The  corn  was  in  silk  and 
tassel,  and  the  meadows  of  timothy  had  been  mowed,  the  hay-coeks  standings 
thick  on  the  g^reening  stnbble.  They  saw  meadow-larks  flying  about  in  the 
bright  sunshine  or  standing  in  the  tufts  of  clover,  their  breasts  gleaming  like 
polished  brass. 

"  Why  is  it  against  the  law  to  shoot  larks  and  robins  ? "  said  Hugh  ;  ''  I  don't 
see  why  it 's  any  worse  to  kill  them  than  it  is  to  kill  quails." 

"  Why  is  it  worse  to  kill  a  horse  than  it  is  to  kill  a  pig?''  inquired  Uncle 
Charley. 

"Because  a  pig's  good  to  eat  and  a  horse  is  n't,"  quickly  answered  Hugh. 

"Is  n't  there  a  better  reason?"  said  Uncle  Charley;  "is  n't  a  horse  more 
useful  to  us  as  a  servant  than  he  would  be  for  food,  even  if  his  flesh  were 
delicious  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Well,  a  meadow-lai'k  is  a  very  useful  bird  to  the  farmer.  It  eats  great 
numbers  of  insects,  eggs,  and  larvae  that  would  work  great  harm  to  Avheat,  corn, 
and  orchards ;  then,  its  flesh  is  not  very  good ;  while  a  <[uail  eats  grain,  and  its 
flesh  is  excellent  food.     Do  vou  see  the  difference  ? " 


10 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


''That  does  seem  reasonable,"  said  Hugh;  "I  hadn't  thought  of  it  in  that 
way.  A  meadow-lark  is  like  a  horse,  it  helps  the  farmer  make  his  crop  by 
destroying  l)ugs  and  things ;  and  the  quail  is  like  a  pig,  it  eats  corn  and  wheat 
and  gets  fat,  to  be  killed  and  eaten." 

Uncle  Charley  laughed. 

"I  see  you  apply  a  theory  in  a  very  practical  sort  of  way,"  he  remarked. 
"  But  the  law  protects  all  kinds  of  harmless  birds,  the  flesh  of  which  is  not  profit- 
able   for  food,"   he   continued, 

"  out  of  fear  of  the  influence      J^    - 
that  the  mere  wanton  slaugh- 
ter of  birds  would  have  upon 
the  morals  of  the  people.    If 
a  boy  is  allowed  to  be  cruel 
as  he  grows  up,  he  ib  likely 
to  develop   into  a  dan- 
gerous man.     I  think 
there  is  a  great  dif- 
ference between   a 
moderate    mdiil  ^?5^     vktM.  jSSi^    ^-^  ^f  ao  t\\o*    V    "      '■r^  >  p^--    ^   *  >♦> 

went  both  barrels  of  Uncle  Charley's  gun."' 

gence  in  field-sports,  and  the  abandonment  of 
one's   self    to   the    brutal  and   indiscriminate 
slaughter  of  birds  and  animals." 

They  had  now  reached  the  edge  of  the  open 
prairie.    As  far  as  they  could  see,  the  land  rolled  away  in  dull,  green  billows. 
The  grass  was  short  on  the  swells  and  tall  in  the  sloughs.     Herds  of  cattle 
were  scattered  from  near  at  hand  to  where  they  barely  speckled  the  horizon. 
Uncle  Charley  gave  Neil  the  lines. 

"  You  drive  slowly  along,"  he  said,  "  while  I  work  the  dogs  over  some  of  this 
ground." 

Getting  out  of  tlie  wagon,  gun  in  hand  and  cartridge-belt  around  liis  waist,  he 
motioned  to  the  man  to  loose  the  dogs, —  two  beautiful  wliiti^  and  brown  setters 
that  knew  just  what  he  wanted  them  to  do. 

Neil  drove  slowly  along  over  the  grass,  for  they  had  left  the  road,  and  ]u> 
and  Hugh  closely  watched  Uncle  Charley,  who  was  walking  briskly  after  the 
galloping  dogs. 


MAKVIX  AXn   HIS  BOY  HUNTEIiS.  11 

*'  Look  at  Don  and  Brit ! ''  cried  Iluirh.  ''  Did  you  ever  see  more  l)eautiful 
dogs  f " 

Dou  was  the  larger  dog,  being  tall  and  strong-limbed,  while  Belt  was  slender, 
nervous,  and  active.  They  ran  in  parallel  lines  some  thirty  yards  apart,  their 
heads  well  up,  and  their  silky,  fringed  tails  waving  like  banners. 

''  Is  n't  it  jolly  ! "  exclaimed  Neil,  as  his  excitement  overmastered  him.  *'  I 
never  saw  anything  so  fine  !  " 

"  If  we  only  had  guns,"  said  Hugh,  leaning  over  the  side  of  the  wagon,  "  how 
perfectly  happy  we  should  be  !  " 

"  Look  at  Don !  "  called  the  man  from  the  camp-wagon. 

The  big  dog  had  stopped  suddenly  with  his  head  turned  aside  and  his  tail  as 
stiff  as  a  stick.     Belt  stopped  too  and  looked  toward  Don. 

'^  He  knows  what  he  's  about,"  said  the  man.  "  There  are  praii-ie-chickens 
there,  sure." 

They  saw  LTncle  Charley  begin  to  move  more  cautiously,  holding  his  gun  in 
front  of  him.  He  had  not  taken  many  steps  when,  with  a  great  buzz,  up  rose  a 
large  flock  of  birds. 

Bang  !  bang  !  went  both  barrels  of  Uncle  Charley's  gun.  The  boys  saw  two 
of  the  birds  tumble  down.  Hugh  yelled  like  a  young  Indian,  and,  jumping  out 
of  the  wagon,  ran  to  where  Uncle  Charley  stood.  Don  ''retrieved" — that  is, 
brought  in  one  bii'd  and  Belt  the  other. 

Neil  wished  to  go  and  examine  the  game;  but  the  horses  were  restless, 
and  he  could  not  leave  them.  Hugh,  however,  brought  the  birds  to  the  wagon 
so  that  Neil  could  see  what  fine,  l^right-feathered  young  prairie-cocks  they 
were. 

Uncle  Charley  had  marked  with  his  eye  the  spot  where  the  rest  of  the  flock 
had  settled  down  in  the  grass,  and  so,  motioning  the  dogs  forward,  he  tramped 
away,  reloading  his  gun  as  he  went.  Hugh  climbed  into  the  wagon  again  and 
Neil  drove  on. 

"  What  is  the  naturalist's  name  for  prairie-chicken,  Neil?  "  said  Hugli,  hold- 
ing up  one  of  the  birds  by  its  wing. 

''  Pinnated  grouse,  or  cupidoma  ciipido,  is  what  scientific  men  call  the  bird," 
replied  Neil,  who  was  rather  proud  of  his  ornithological  knowledge. 

Soon  Belt  came  to  a  stanch  stand  and  Don  "backed"  him, —  as  the  man  in 
the  wagon  said, —  that  is,  Don  pointed  because  he  saw  Belt  point. 

Neil  stopped  the  wagon  to  watch  Uncle  Charley  ''  flush,"  or  scare  up  the  birds. 

A  single  grouse  rose  and  flew  off  to  the  left,  giving  Uncle  Charley  a  hard 
chance.  He  fired  promptly,  first  his  right-hand  barrel,  then  the  left,  missing 
with  both. 

''  Well,  well !  "  cried  Hugh  ;  ''  I  could  have  killed  that  bird  myself  !  " 

Uncle  Charley  reloaded  his  gun,  and  walked  on.  Another  and  another  bird 
buzzed  up.    Bang  !  bang  !—  one  hit  and  one  miss.    The  sport  now  grew  intensely 


12  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

exciting.  Tlie  grouse  wei-e  just  euough  scattered  to  give  the  gunner  a  chance 
to  flush  them  one  at  a  time.  When  he  came  hack  to  tlie  wagon,  he  had  eight 
birds,  which,  with  the  two  already  there,  made  ten  in  all. 

The  dogs  had  their  tongues  out,  and  were  panting  vigorously. 


III. 

UNCLE  CHARLEY  MEETS  AN  f)LD  FRIEND. 

"  rpHAT  is  what  I  don't  like  about  bird-hunting  on  the  prairies,"  said  Uncle 
JL  Charley,  as  he  helped  the  dogs  into  the  camp-wagon ;  "  it 's  so  hard  on  the 
dogs  to  do  without  water.  See  how  Belt  pants  !  He 's  almost  famished  for  a 
drink  and  a  bath.     We  '11  have  to  drive  on  till  we  find  water." 

There  was  a  big  box  of  ice  in  the  camp-wagon,  upon  which  the  birds  were  put 
to  keep  cool.  The  ice  was  packed  in  saw-dust  to  keep  it  from  melting.  Belt 
lay  down  by  this  ice-box  and  seemed  to  greatly  enjoy  its  effect. 

Our  friends  drove  on,  but  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  they  found  a 
suitable  spot  ou  which  to  camp.  This  was  under  some  scrubby  oak-trees,  by  the 
side  of  a  sluggish  little  brook.  There  was  a  spring  of  very  good  water  close  by. 
A  farm-house  was  in  sight,  on  a  high  swell  of  the  prairie.  It  was  flanked  by 
"broad-winged  barns,  and  half-hidden  in  a  dusky  apple-orchard.  A  tall  windmill, 
with  a  gayly  painted  wheel,  was  shining  and  fluttering  in  the  bright  sunlight. 

As  soon  as  the  wagons  were  stopped  the  dogs  leaped  out  and  ran  to  wallow 
in  the  brook. 

The  man  who  had  driven  the  camp-wagon  soon  had  the  horses  cared  for  and 
the  tents  put  up.  The  luncheon  brought  from  home  was  spread  upon  a  clean 
cloth,  and  the  boys  thought  they  had  never  before  eaten  anything  quite  so  good. 
The  long  ride  in  the  open  air  and  the  excitement  of  tlie  sport  had  whetted  their 
appetites.  Hngh  said  the  sun  had  burned  the  back  of  his  neck  so  badly  that  he 
believed  the  skin  w^ould  come  off;  but  he  was  ready  to  follow  the  nian-of-all- 
work  to  the  farm-house,  where  they  got  a  basket  of  apples.  While  they  were 
away  Uncle  Charley  gave  Neil  his  first  lesson  in  handling  a  gun. 

''The  first  thing  to  be  learned,"  said  he,  ''is  to  stand  properly.  Plant  both 
your  feet  naturally  and  firmly  on  the  ground,  so  that  the  joints  of  your  legs  are 
neither  stiff  nor  bent ;  then  lean  the  upper  part  of  your  body  sliglitly  forAvard. 
Grip  the  gunstock  just  behind  the  guard  with  the  right  hand,  the  forefinger 
lightly  touching  the  foremost  trigger,  that  is,  the  trigger  of  the  right-hand 
barrel.     The  stock  of  the  gun,  a  few  inches  in  front  of  the  guard,  must  rest 


Don  •'retrie\-ing." 


14  BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 

easily  in  the  hollow  of  the  left  hand.  Hold  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  up  and 
slanting  away  from  you,  so  that  the  lower  end  of  the  butt  is  just  lower  than 
your  right  elbow.  Now,  if  both  hammers  have  been  cocked,  and  you  gently 
and  swiftly  draw  the  butt  of  the  gun  up  to  and  against  the  hollow  of  the  right 
shoulder,  you  will  find  yourself  in  good  position  for  taking  aim,  which  is  best 
done  by  keeping  both  eyes  wide  open,  and  looking  straight  over  the  rib  between 
the  barrels  with  the  right  eye." 

Neil  took  Uncle  Charley's  gun,  and  ])egan  to  try  to  follow  his  instructions. 
"  But  how  am  I  to  know  that  I  am  sighting  with  my  right  eye,  if  I  keep  both 
eyes  open  ? "  inquired  he. 

"  Oh,  you  '11  soon  discover  that  trick,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  ''  by  fixing  your 
aim  with  both  eyes  open,  and  then,  holding  perfectly  steady,  closing  the  left  eye  ; 
if  the  line  of  sight  now  changes,  you  have  not  sighted  coiTcctly;  if  it  remains 
fixed,  the  aim  has  been  taken  with  the  right  eye." 

Neil  tried  it  over  and  over  again  with  great  care,  until  he  was  quite  sure  he 
had  mastered  the  method.  He  was  a  cool-headed,  methodical  boy,  not  in  the 
least  nervous,  and  what  he  undertook  he  always  tried  to  do  well. 

"  Now,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "  I  am  going  to  see  if  you  can  hit  anything." 

He  looked  around  to  find  something  on  the  ground  that  he  could  throw  into 
the  air  for  Neil  to  shoot  at ;  but  he   could  not  see  anything. 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  said,  taking  off  his  hunting-cap,  "  I  guess  this  w'ill  do.  Now 
take  your  position." 

Neil  prepared  himself,  holding  the  gun  just  as  Uncle  Charley  had  taught  him. 
He  was  determined  to  hit  that  cap  if  he  could,  for  he  thought  Uncle  Chai-ley 
meant  to  make  fun  of  his  marksmanship  by  thus  offering  to  toss  up  his  own  cap. 

"  Are  you  ready  ? "  cried  Uncle  Charley,  standing  about  twenty  paces  from 
Neil. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  prompt  answer. 

Whirling  over  and  over,  up  went  the  cap  through  the  air  in  a  high  curve. 

Neil  aimed  as  he  had  been  directed  and  banged  away. 

The  dust  and  lint  flew  from  the  cap  in  a  small  cloud.  Neil  had  purposely 
fired  the  left-hand  barrel,  which  was  close-choked  for  long-range  shooting ; 
consequently  a  very  large  number  of  shot  had  hit  the  cap,  fairly  riddling 
it  with  holes. 

At  a  later  point  in  this  story  the  reader  will  have  the  methods  of  making 
gun-barrels  explained,  so  that  he  will  fully  understand  what  close-choked  means. 

Uncle  Charley  went  to  his  cap  and  picked  it  up.  He  smiled  rather  ruefully 
as  he  examined  it. 

"  Pretty  well  done,  I  should  say,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  but,  Neil,  which  barrel  did 
you  fire  ? " 

"  The  left-hand  one,"  Neil  answered,  smiling  in  turn. 


LiliVIX  AND    HIS   JidV   IIIWTKRS. 


15 


front  triijf^er." 

slipiH'd   it  off  lio-lilly  and 


"  But  I  told  j'ou  to  put  your  right  forefin<i:or  on  tin 

"  So  I  did,"  said  Neil,  laui>-liiii<;  lieartily,  "  l)iit  I 
pulled  the  other  trigger." 

*'  Aud  why  did  you  do  tliat  f  " 

''Well,"  said  Neil,  ''  I  saw  that  you  liad  a  eoutempt  for  my  shooting  alnlity, 
so  I  thought  I  'd  give 
your     cap     a     good 
dose  ! " 

Uncle  Charlt^v  still 
looked  at  his  wound- 
ed cap.  ''Well,  well," 
he  said,  "  if  this  had 
been  a  bird  you 
would  n't  have  left  a 
feather  on  it !  You 
did  splendidly,  how- 
ever ;  it  was  a  fine 
shot ;  you  hit  my  cap 
with  the  very  center 
of  your  load." 

Secretly  Neil  felt 
quite  proud  of  his 
success,  but  he  kept 
cool  and  said  but 
little. 

"Be  careful  there!" 
cried  Uncle  Charley, 
as  Neil  lowered  the 
gun  to  the  ground, 
"  never  set  your  gun 
down  with  a  hammer 
up.  That  is  the  cause 
of  many  deplorable 
accidents." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  !  " 
said  Neil,  his  face 
flushing. 

"You  must  never 
forget  anything  when  you   are   handling  fire-arms.     To  avoid  accident  you 
must  be  constantly  on  the  alert  and  always  cautious,  not  overlooking  even 
the  slightest  precaution." 


Tlio  first  cuinpiiig  \ 


16 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOETS. 


When  Hugh  and  the  man  returned  from  the  farm-house,  the  sun  had  sunk 
low  in  the  west,  and  the  praii-ie-chickens  were  booming  their  peculiar  calls 
far  out  on  the  rolling  plain. 

"  Hugh,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "  I  shall  leave  you  and  Mr.  Hurd  "  (tlie  man-of- 
all-work)  "  in  charge  of  the  camp,  while  Neil  and  I  go  for 
a  short  tramp  among  the  chickens." 

Then  he  took  his  gun,  and,  calling  the  dogs,  started 
down  the  side  of  the  little  stream,  closely  followed  by 
Neil.     Hugh  felt  quite  tired,  so  he  lay  down  at  the  root  of 
a  tree  and  soon  fell  into  a  light, 
sweet   sleep,  while   Mr 
went   about   preparing 
supi)er. 

When    they    had 
gone   a  little   way     ,  ' 
from  camp,  Uncle 
Charley    said    to 
Neil: 

"  Here,  take  my 
gun  and  let 's  see 
if  you  can  kill  a 

Of  course  Neil 
He  took  the  gun, 
lowed  the  dogs, 
signs  of  scenting 
stream.  Very  soon 
up  from  among 
and  thick  grass 
As  quickly  as  pos- 
best  aim  he  could, 


prairie-chicken." 

was      delifihted. 

and  eagerl\   tol- 

they     iAiow  ed 

game     down     the 

a  large   bird  fie^\ 

some  low  amIIows 

at  the  water's  odire 

sible  Neil  took  the 

and  fired  first  the 


Ntil  took  tht  bcst  .iim  he 

right  barrel,  tlien  the  left;  but  the  big  bird  flew  on  as  though  nothing  had 
happened. 

Uncle  Charley  laughed  heartily,  and  Neil  looked  rather  crestfallen  and  abashed 
at  his  failure. 

''  If  you  had  killed  that  duck,  my  l3oy,  you  would  have  been  liable  to  a  fine," 
said  Uncle  Charley. 

"  Why,  was  that  a  duck  ?"  exclaimed  Neil,  still  gazing  blankly  at  the  depart- 
ing bird ;  ''  I  thought  it  was  a  grouse." 

"  Well,  you  're  saved  this  time,"  added  Uncle  Charley ;  *'  those  cartridges  you 
fired  had  no  shot  in  them  !  " 

"I  thought  something  was  wrong,"  said  Neil, 
bird.     I  did  n't  understand  how  I  could  miss  it." 


for  I  aimed  exactlv  at  that 


MAJ{\'IX  AND   HIS  BOY  HVyTEliS. 


17 


"Now,  then,  I  '11  put  some  properly  loaded  cartridges  in  the  gun,"  said  Uncle 
Charley,  laughing  grimly  ;  "  but  you  must  n't  fire  at  any  bird  but  a  i)raiiie- 
ehicken,  because  the  law  forbids  it  at  this  season." 

They  went  on,  and  the  dogs  soon  pointed  a  flock  of  grouse  in  some  low,  di-y 
grass  on  a  windy  swell  of  the  prairie.  Neil  had  seven  fair  shots,  and  killed  just 
one  bird.  He  could  not  understand  how  this  could  happen.  He  tried  very  hard 
to  aim  just  as  he  had  been  instructed,  but  he  kept  missing,  nevertheless. 

When  it  began  to  grow  dusky  on  the  prairie,  and  they  had  turned  toward  the 
camp, Uncle  Charley  explained  to  Neil  why  he  had  missed  so  many  birds.  He  said: 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  are  in  too  great  a  hurry,  and  consequently  shoot  too 
soon.  Then,  again,  you  aim  right  at  a  flying  bird,  which  is  wrong,  save  when 
it  flies  directly  away  from  you.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  to  aim  somewhat 
ahead  of  the  game  when  its  course  is  to  the  left  or  right  of  your  line  of  aim." 

"Well,"  said  Neil,  "I  'U  try  and  remember  that." 

When  they  reached  the  camp  it  was  quite  dark,  but  ^Ir.  Hurd  had  a  l>lazing 
fire,  which  lighted  up  a  large  space.  A  pot  of  coffee  was  steaming  on  a  bed  of 
coals,  and  over  this  some  birds  were  broiling,  filling  the  air  Avith  a  savory  smell 
that  made  Neil  very  hungry.  They  were  rather  surprised  to  find  a  strange  man 
sitting  by  the  fire.  He  stood  up  when  they  aj»proached,  and  then  he  and  Uncle 
Charley  liastened  toward  each  other  and  shook  hands. 

'•  Why,  my  old  friend  Marvin  ! "  cried  Uncle  Charley.  "  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you." 

"Charley,  my  boy,  how  d'ye  dof"  said  3Iarvin. 


-^^ 


A  duel  on  the  prairie. 


18 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


IV. 


MARVIN    THE    MARKET-HUNTER. 


HUGH  had  been  (iiiictly  sleeping  all  this  time  at  the  foot  of  the  tree ;  but 
when  he  heard  Unele  Charley's  voice,  he  awoke  and  sat  up,  rubbing  his 
eves  with  his  fists.     At   first   he  could  hardly  remember  where  he  was,  and 
stared  wildly  about ;  everything  looked  so  strange 
in  the  glare  of  the  firelight. 

''  See  what  I  brought  down  !  "  cried  Neil,  going 
up  to  his  brother  and  holding  out  the  prairie- 
chicken, 

Hugh's  memory  cleared  as  by  magic,  and 
in  a  moment  he  was  wide  awake. 

"  Oh,  did  Uncle  Charley  let  you  shoot  with 
his  gun?"  he  inquired, 
his  eyes  growing  bright 
at  the  thought. 

''  I  should  think  he 
did,"  said  Neil;  "have 
n't  you  heard  me  firing 
away  ? " 

'*!  believe  I  've  been 
asleep,"  said  Hugh  ; 
"  but  who  is  the  gen- 
tleman Uncle  Charley 
is  talking  with  f" 

''  His  name  is  John 
Marvin ;  they  seem  to 
he  old  friends ;  Mr. 
Hurd  says  he's  a  nuir- 
ket-hunter." 

''  What  is  a  market- 
hunter  f"  asked  Hugh. 
1.     He  makes  his  living 


Neil's  first  prairie-chicken. 

A  market-hunter  is  a  man  who  kilU 


_  ame  to  s 
by  hunting,"  replied  Neil. 

Supper  was  soon  ready,  andMr.  Maa-vin  ioined  them  in  eating  the  well-cooked 
meal.  It  delighted  the  boys  to  hear  him  and  rn.-le  CliarU'V  talk  over  their 
hunting  adventures  and  their  experiences  by  Hood  and  iicM,  for  they  had  l^oth 


3TAI{VIX  A  XI)    HIS   HOY    11  I'M  hi!  S.  19 

been  to  many  wild  and  intci-cstinu;-  jjlact's,  and  had  seen  many  sti-anji^o  l>ii-ds 
and  animals. 

Mr.  Marvin  said  he  had  been  having  good  hick  with  prairie-claekens  since  the 
opening-  of  the  season.  Birds,  he  said,  were  far  more  plentifnl  than  usual,  and 
he  hoped  to  make  enough  money,  by  the  time  cold  weather  came  on,  to  enable 
him  to  go  South,  where  he  hoped  to  hunt  throughout  the  coming  winter. 

Mr.  Marvin  was  a  man  of  about  fifty  years  of  age,  and  had  followed  market- 
hunting  all  his  life.  He  seemed  to  know  everything  that  was  worth  knowing 
about  guns  and  dogs  and  the  habits  of  wild  game.  Uncle  Charley  evidently 
regarded  this  man's  opinions  as  authority  on  outdoor  subjects.  In  fact,  Xcil 
and  Hugh  soon  discovered  that  Mr.  JMarvin  was  a  very  well-known  and  highly 
esteemed  man  among  the  best  class  of  American  sportsmen  and  naturalists. 
He  was  a  regular  agent  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute  at  Washington  for  collect- 
ing rare  specimens  of  nests,  eggs,  birds,  fishes,  and  animals. 

They  all  sat  up  far  into  the  night,  planning  various  little  expeditions,  and 
enjoying  the  cool  breeze  and  the  fresh  perfume  of  the  prairie ;  and  when  they 
lay  down  in  their  tents  they  slept  soundly  until  the  eastern  sky  was  growing 
bright  with  the  dawn. 

Marvin's  tent  was  only  a  little  way  up  the  brook  from  the  camp  of  Uncle  Charley 
and  the  boys.  Just  after  breakfast  he  hastened  down  to  say  that  he  had  seen  a 
large  flock  of  grouse  alight  in  a  field  of  oat-stubble  on  the  neighboring  farm. 
Uncle  Charley  made  short  work  with  the  rest  of  his  meal,  slipped  on  his  long 
rubber  boots  to  protect  his  feet  and  legs  from  the  heavy  dew,  called  the  dogs, 
seized  his  gun,  and  was  off  with  Marvin  before  the  boys  were  half  through 
breakfast.     Not  many  minutes  later  the  guns  began  to  boom. 

Neil  and  Hugh  could  easily  distinguish  the  sound  of  Marvin's  gun  from  that 
of  Uncle  Charley,  for  the  reason  that  Marvin  used  a  heavy  ten-bore  piece  with 
five  drams  of  powdgr  and  an  ounce  and  a  quarter  of  shot  for  a  charge. 

Hugh  declared  that  the  gun  sounded  like  a  young  cannon. 

"  I  guess  he  '11  beat  Uncle  Charley  killing  birds,"  said  Neil ;  "  he  seems  to 
know  more  about  the  business,  and  then  he  's  had  more  practice." 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  be  a  market-hunter,"  exclaimed  Hugh,  "  and  just  go 
from  one  good  shooting-ground  to  another,  all  the  year  round,  Avith  nothing  to 
do  but  shoot  birds  and  collect  eggs  and  nests.    What  a  lot  of  fun  it  must  be  ! " 

"You'd  get  pretty  tired  after  awhile,  or  I  'm  no  judge,"  said  Mr.  Hurd. 
*'  It 's  mighty  monotonous  work  tramping  around  all  the  time  with  nothing 
but  shoot,  shoot,  shoot  fi'oni  month's  end  to  month's  end.  That  would  n't  suit 
me,  I  can  tell  yon." 

''  I  reckon  you  could  n't  liit  anything  if  yon  tried  to  hunt."  said  Hugh  quickly. 

"■  I  could  take  a  broom-handle  and  hit  you  if  you  gave  me  very  much  of  your 
sauce,"  responded  Mr.  Hurd.  who  was  inclined  to  be  ill-tempered. 

But  Hugh  oulv  laughed  a  littlr  and  walked  away. 


20 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  make  havoc  among  the  grouse. 

As  the  sun  rose  higher  and  the  grass  began  to  dry,  the  boys  went  for  a  stroll 
aloug  the  brook.  They  found  many  beautiful  wild  flowers,  the  loveliest  ones 
being  large  white  water-lilies,  with  broad  thin  leaves  floating  on  a  still  pond. 
While  looking  at  these,  they  saw  an  old  duck  with  her  half-grown  brood  of 
young  ones  hastily  swimming  away  to  hide  among  the  tall  weeds  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  water. 

"I  see  now  why  the  law  forbids  shooting  ducks  in  sumnver,"  said  Neil.  ''  If 
one  were  to  shoot  that  old  duck  now,  the  young  ones  would  not  know  what  to 
do ;  they  would  probably  wander  about  for  a  few  days  and  die." 

The  boys  gathered  some  lilies  and  carried  them  back  to  the  cam}).  Uncle 
Charley  and  Marvin  returned  about  ten  o'clock  with  a  lieavy  load  of  birds. 
Marvin  had  killini  twenty-three  and  Uncle  Charley  nine. 

"  It 's  no  use  for  me  to  shoot  with  Marvin,"  said  the  hitter,  in  a  tone  of  good- 
natured  chagrin;  "he  always  doubles  my  score." 

^'  I  told  you  so,"  said  Neil  aside  to  Hugh.     ''  "Mv.  Marvin  is  a  very  great  shot." 

Through  the  middle  of  the  day,  while  it  was  too  hot  to  hunt,  they  all  hiy  in 
the  shade  of  the  trees  and  talked,  or  read  some  books  on  natural  history  that 
Neil  had  l)rought  from  his  father's  library.  Mr,  Marvin  took  great  pleasure  in 
listening  to  Neil  as  he  read  aloud  from  ''Wilson's  Ornithology."  Occasionally, 
he  would  interrupt  the  reading  to  throw  in  some  interesting  reminiscence  of  his 
wild-wood  rambles,  or  to  make  some  shrewd  comment  on  the  naturalist's  state- 


MAin'ix  AXJ)  HIS  nor  ihxtkrs. 


21 


inents.  Neil  soon  liked  Mr.  Marvin  very  iiiucli,  and  so  did  Hugh.  In  fact,  the 
hunter  was  so  straightforward  ami  honest  in  his  manner,  so  frank-faced  and 
clear-eyed,  that  one  must  like  him  and  trust  him.  He  told  the  boys  a  gi'eat 
many  stories  of  his  life  in  Southern  Florida,  with  adventures  that  l)efell  him 
while  he  was  exploring  the  everglades  and  vast  swamps  of  that  wild  region. 
He  seemed  a  very  encyclopedia  of  varied  hunting  experience.  Almost  any 
healthy  boy  will  find  such  a  man  to  be  a  charming  companion ;  and  if  the  boy 
is  desirous  of  obtaining  knowledge,  he  can  gather  a  great  deal  of  it  from  listen- 
ing to  the  conversation. 

Mr.  Marvin  soon  discovered  the  gn^at  hope  the  boys  had  of  one  day  Ijeing 
good  shots,  so  he  went  to  his  tent  and  brought  a  little  sixteeu-bore  gun  that  he 
used  for  killing  snipe  and  wood- 
cock and  other  small  birds.     He 
took  out  the  cartridges,  and  lianded 
the  guu  to  Hugh. 

''  Now,"  said  he, ''  let  me  see  how 
you  would  handle  it  if  yow  were 
going  to  shoot  a  bird." 

Hugh  seized  the  gun,  much  as 
a  hungry  lioy  would  grab  a  slice 
of  plum-pudding,  jerked  it  up  to 
his  shoulder,  shut  one  eye, —  which 
got  his  face  all  in  a  funny  twist, 
—  opened  his  mouth  sidewise, 
and  pulled  the  trigger.  The\'  all 
laughed  at  him  long  and  loudly. 
Uncle  Charley  declared  that  he 
would  give  a  dollar  for  a  correct 
photograph  of  that  attitude. 

But  Hugh  was  too  much  in  earn- 
est to  be  laughed  down.  He  kept 
trying  until  he  could  get  himseK 
into  passable  form;  but  it  was 
])lain  to  Uncle  Charley  that  he 
would  never  be  as  cool  and  grace- 
ful as  Neil.  Hugh's  enthusiasm  counted  for  a  great  deal,  however,  and  might 
carry  him  through  some  tight  places  where  more  deliberation  and  scrupulous 
care  would  fail.  Mr.  Marvin  next  put  some  unloaded  cartridges  in  the  gun, 
and  allowed  Hugh  to  fire  at  an  apple  that  he  flung  into  the  air.  When  the 
cartridges  exploded,  Hugh  winked  his  eyes  and  dodged.     Even  Belt  laughed. 

"Be  perfectly  cool  and  steady,"  said  !Mr.  Marvin:  "you  '11  get  it  all  right 
presently." 


"  Even  Belt  laughed. 


22  BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  exclaimed  Hugh,  his  voice  trembliug  with  excitement  and 
his  eyes  gleaming.     ''  I  'd  have  hit  that  apple  if  the  shell  had  been  loaded." 

'•  No,  you  'd  have  overshot  it,"  said  Mr.  Marvin ;  "  you  were  too  slow  in  pulling 
the  trigger.  The  apple  fell  a  foot  between  the  time  you  shut  your  eyes  and  the 
time  you  fired." 

Hugh  found  mueh  trouble  in  controlling  his  eyes ;  but  he  finally  succeeded  in 
keeping  them  open  while  firing,  and  he  soon  began  to  show  increasing  steadiness 
and  confidence. 

Mr.  Marvin  then  ex})l<iined  that  the  first  great  rule  in  shooting  at  a  moving 
object  is  to  learn  to  look  steadily  at  the  point  where  you  wi.sh  your  shot  to  go ; 
and  the  second  rule  is  to  learn  to  level  the  gun  at  that  point  without  any  hesi- 
tation or  "  poking."  You  have  no  time  for  taking  a  deliberate  aim  at  a  swiftly 
moving  bird,  and  to  attempt  such  a  thing  will  make  of  you  what  sportsmen  call 
a  ''poke-shot," — that  is,  one  who  squints,  and  aims,  and  pokes  his  gun  along, 
trying  to  keep  his  fore-sight  on  the  flying  game.  A  really  good  shooter  fixes  his 
eyes  on  the  spot  to  be  covered  by  his  aim,  at  the  same  time  that  he  swiftly  raises  his 
gun  and  points  it  in  the  correct  line, —  his  eyes,  his  arms,  and  his  right  forefinger 
all  acting  in  perfect  harmony  together.  You  observe  that  when  a  good  musician 
begins  to  play  on  the  piano  he  does  not  fumble  for  the  keys,  but  finds  them  as 
certainly  and  as  naturally  as  he  winks  his  eyes.  So  the  shooter  must  not  fumble 
for  his  aim,  but  get  it  by  a  swift,  sure,  and  steady  movement  that  is  only  obtain- 
able by  careful  and  intelligent  practice. 

Mr.  Marvin  next  put  a  loaded  cartridge  in  the  right-hand  ])arr(4  of  the  gun, 
and  said  to  Hugh  : 

"  Now,  sir,  you  're  going  to  make  your  fii-st  shot,  and  I  wish  you  to  do  it  just 
as  I  have  directed  ;  if  you  do,  you  '11  hit  this  apple  ;  if  you  don't  you  '11  miss  it. 
Eeady,  now.    Fire  ! "  and  he  flung  the  apple  into  the  air. 

Hugh  forgot  everything  in  a  second,  raised  his  gun  awkwardly,  squinted  one 
eye,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  The  report  of  his  shot  rang  out  on  the  prairie,  but 
the  apple  came  down  untouched. 

"Overshot  it,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  shaking  his  head.  "You  '  })()ked '  badly  j 
and  such  a  squint ! '' 

Hugh  looked  all  over  the  apple,  but  he  could  not  find  a  scratch.  **  1  '11  not 
miss  it  next  time,"  he  cried ;  but  he  did.  In  fact,  he  shot  seven  times  before  he 
touched  the  ajjple. 

Mr.  Marvin  had  to  scold  him  several  times  about  carelessly  handling  the  gun. 
He  once  said : 

"  Never  allow  tlie  inu'///Av  of  your  gun  to  ])oiut  toward  yourself  or  any  oiu' 
else,  no  matter  whether  it  is  loaded  or  not.  If  you  are  careh^ss  with  an  empty 
gun,  you  will  y)e  car«'less  with  a  loaded  one."  Then  he  added :  "  I  once  heard  a 
liaekwoodsman  say  that  his  father  proved  to  him  that  a  gun  was  dangerous 
without  lock,  stock,  or  barrel." 


MAEVJX  AXJ)    HIS  JlOV  HCNTERS.  23 

"  How  could  that  be  ? "  said  Iluoh. 

''Why,  his  fatlicr  wliipped  liiiii  with  tlie  ramrod  I"  said  Mr.  Marvin.  With  a 
hearty  Liugh,  Hiiiili  admitted  that  the  proof  was  uii(l('iiial)le,  and  promised  to 
try  to  form  a  careful  hal)it  of  liaiidliiiir  <runs. 


Y. 

A  LESSON  IN   WOODCOCK   SIIOOTINO. 

THE   i)rairie   upon  which  our  friends  were 
en(!amped  was  one  of  those  beautiful  roU- 
' '      ^V    *  ^  ^^&  plains  for  which  Illinois  is  so  justly  famous. 

■^i^'W%-  There  were  but  few  inclosed  farms  in  that  im- 

''  j^«i^  .  1/       . .         mediate  region,  the  greater  portion  of  the  land 

being  still  in  its  wild,  grassy  state,  and  used 
mostly  for  pasturing  cattle  that  were  attended 
it,  .,,. .       ])v  mounted  herdsmen.     Sometimes  these  hei'ds- 

^  ,  '■'^^      men  would  get  angry  at  the  huuters  for  shoot- 

""'""""'  ■-——■■'-'  "-'  ^jjg.  j^gjj^j.  their  cattle.     This  was  not  surprising, 

however,  for  the  reports  of  the  guns  often  so  frightened  a  herd  that  each  sep- 
arate steer  would  take  its  own  coiu'se,  and  run  for  a  mile  as  fast  as  it  could  go, 
bellowing  furiously.  Men  who  know  say  that  a  run  like  that  will  take  a  dollar's 
worth  of  fat  off  each  steer ;  so  we  can  not  wonder  that  cattle-men  should  grumble 
at  careless  sportsmen  for  causing  them  such  loss.  But  sometimes  the  chicken- 
shooters  do  worse  harm  than  merely  frightening  tlie  herds.  If  a  bird  happen 
to  be  flushed  near  a  herd  of  cattle,  a  heedless  hunter  may  shoot  a  steer  instead 
of  the  game;  then,  if  the  owner  is  near,  he  is  ready  to  fight;  and  you  may  well 
believe  that  a  big  brown-faced  prairie  herdsman  is  a  highly  dangerous  fellow 
when  angry. 

Mr.  Marvin  told  of  an  adventure  he  once  had  with  a  cattle-owner.  He  said : 
''  I  was  shooting  on  that  beautiful  little  prairie  in  Indiana  called  Wea  Plain  : 
and  when  quite  near  a  drove  of  cattle  I  flushed  a  single  chicken.  I  fired,  and 
bi-ought  down  the  bird  in  good  style ;  but,  as  luck  would  have  it,  the  rest  of  the 
shot  went  broadside  into  a  fine  fat  steer  that  was  grazing  about  fifty  yards 
away.  The  bawling  that  the  animal  set  up  was  just  terrible  to  hear,  and 
the  whole  drove  stampeded  at  once.  Well,  while  I  was  standing  there,  gazing 
after  the  galloping  cattle,  suddenly  'bang!  bang ! '  wmt  a  gun  not  far 
away,  and   both   of  my   fine   dogs   fell   over  — dead.     I    tui-ned   quickly,    and 


24  BOYD'S'  BOOK   OF  SPOETS. 

saw  a  furious  herdsman  sitting  on  his  horse  with  a  Winchester  ritle  sniokin<,' 
iu  his  hand. 

"  'Now  you  put  on  your  best  gait  and  walk  a  chalk-line  from  here ! '  cried  the 
man.  I  began  to  try  to  explain,  but  he  grew  more  and  more  angry,  and  said  he 
did  n't  want  to  hear  a  word  from  me.  I  saw  he  was  desperate  and  dangerous, 
so  I  made  the  best  of  a  bad  situation,  and  walked  away,  I  believe  he  would  have 
killed  me,  just  as  he  had  killed  my  fine  dogs,  if  I  had  said  another  word  to  him." 


One  of  the  "ways  of  woodcock." — Mother  W()o(U'()ck  carryiTifi  her  young  to  a  place  of  safety. 

"  But  it  was  a  wicked  thing  in  him  to  shoot  your  dogs  iu  that  way,"  said  Hugh  ; 
"they  were  not  doing  any  harm.  I  should  have  just  filled  him  full  of  shot  if 
I  had  been  you." 

"See  here,  Hugh,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "  if  I  again  licai-  you  speak  of  shooting 
any  one,  I  '11  not  let  your  hands  touch  a  gun  any  more  while  we  're  out.  Why, 
it  's   horrible.      I  've   been  trying  to  teach  you  carefulness  and    prudence  so 


3IARVIX  AXD   JUS  lloY  lirXTERS.  2o 

that  it  would  he  safe  for  you  to  be  tnislcd  with  a  u:uii,  and  lu-re  you  are  talking 
about  murder !  '■ 

Hugh's  eyes  fell,  and  he  looked  ashamed  of  his  foolish  declaration. 

''  There  is  a  good  lesson  in  my  adventure,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "and  you  l)oys 
must  remember  it.  Never  get  so  excited,  in  following  game,  as  to  forget  to  be 
prudent  and  careful  about  the  safety  of  others  or  their  property.  Of  course 
the  herdsman  did  wrong  in  killing  my  dogs ;  but  I  did  wrong,  too,  in  the  first 
place,  by  carelessly  shooting  toward  his  cattle.  Suppose  it  had  been  a  man  or 
a  boy  I  had  hit,  instead  of  a  steer. —  how  miserable  I  would  have  been  !  " 

"  Yes,  and  suppose  you  had  turned  'round  and  killed  the  man  for  sliooting 
your  dogs,"  said  Neil,  "you'd  have  beeu  hanged  for  murder,  and  would  not 
have  got  your  dogs  back  either." 

Hugh  shrugged  his  shoulders  at  the  tliought  of  being  hanged.  He  had  spoken 
without  considering ;  what  if  he  had  shot  without  considering  ! 

The  good  advice  of  Mr.  Marviu  took  hold  of  Hugh's  conscience,  and  he  in- 
wardly declared  that  he  would  always  l)e  very  careful  what  he  did  with  a  gun. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  they  all  rested  and  read,  or  strolled  along  the 
brook. 

Neil,  while  out  by  himself,  was  passing  around  the  edge  of  what  might  be 
called  a  little  oasis  in  the  prairie,  a  low,  swampy  spot  of  ground  grown  up 
with  a  thicket  of  low  willows  and  elbow^  brush,  when  he  flushed  a  wood- 
cock. At  once  he  rightly  suspected  that  quite  a  number  of  these  exquisite 
game-birds  had  collected  here  to  feed  upon  the  insects  and  larvee  which  they 
could  find  by  boring  with  their  long  bills  in  the  mud.  He  kept  his  discovery 
to  himself. 

Next  morning  he  went  eai'ly  to  Mr.  Marvin's  tent,  and  asked  him  for  his  little 
sixteen-bore  gun. 

"  I  wish  to  shoot  some  woodcock  down  here  in  a  little  thicket,"  seeing  that  Mr. 
Marviu  hesitated. 

"  Suppose  I  go  with  you,"  suggested  Mr.  Marvin.  "Are  you  very  sure  there 
are  woodcock  there  ?  I  looked  at  tht^  i)laee  the  other  day  and  thought  1  'd 
examine  it  again  soon." 

"I  should  be  delighted  if  you  would  go  with  me,"  ([uiekly  replied  Neil ;  "  will 
your  dogs  point  woodcock  ?  " 

"I  should  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "they  kn(nv  all  aljout  them;  but  are 
you  sure  that  any  birds  are  there  ? " 

"  I  flushed  one  there  yesterday,"  Neil  replied ;  "  and  I  saw  many  places  where 
others  had  been  boring  in  the  mud." 

Mr.  Marvin  looked  sharply  at  Neil,  and  said : 

'•  Where  did  you  learn  about  the  ways  of  woodcock  ?  You  never  hunted  any, 
did  you  ? " 

"i  have  read  all  the  books  on  ornithology  that  T  c;)uld  obtain,"  replied  Neil. 


26  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

Mr.  Marvin  was  already  j^etting  the  guns  out,  and  selecting  cartridges  loaded 
with  small  shot. 

"Shooting  woodcock  is  quick  work,"  he  said.  *' Almost  every  shot  must  be  a 
snap-shot." 

"  What  is  a  snap-shot  ? "  asked  Neil. 

"A  shot  which  is  made  without  any  aim,''  answered  Mr.  Marvin.  ''  When  you 
are  in  the  bushes  and  brush,  and  a  bird  flies  u}),  you  must  shoot  in  a  great 
hurry,  or  it  will  get  away." 

Uncle  Charley  and  Hugh  saw  Mr.  Marvin  and  Neil  going  off  together  across 
the  prairie,  and  Hugh  wondered  how  it  chanced  that  Neil  had  thus  gained  the 
market-hunter's  confidence.  Neil  was  carrying  the  little  sixteen-bore  across  his 
shoulder  with  nnich  the  air  of  an  old  sportsman,  though  he  was  almost  on  a  run 
trying  to  keep  up  with  Mr.  Marvin,  who  strode  along  at  a  great  pace,  his  head 
thrust  forward,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  distant  fringe  of  bushes  that  marked 
the  woodcock  swamp. 

The  morning  was  cool  and  sweet,  with  a  thin  film  of  fleecy  clouds  across  the 
skv.  The  grass  was  dewless,  and  a  little  wind  blew  from  the  south-west. 
In  every  direction  the  grouse  were  crying  in  their  mournful,  monotonous  way. 
In  the  east  a  great  flare  of  red  showed  where  the  sun  was  just  getting  up  behind 
the  clouds.  The  distant  low  hills  of  the  prairie  looked  lilce  ocean  waves.  Here 
and  there  the  herds  of  cattle  were  scattered,  some  lying  down  and  some  grazing. 
Neil  had  never  felt  happier  in  his  life. 

The  thicket,  or  ''cripple,"  as  woodcock  feeding-grounds  are  sometimes  called, 
lay  in  a  low  place  near  the  border  of  a  thin  wood,  where  the  prairie  began  to 
break  up  into  a  hilly  fringe  of  timbered  land. 

Mr.  Mar\an  held  in  the  dogs  until  they  reached  the  margin  of  the  place :  then 
he  loosed  them,  and  bade  them  work.  Those  well-trained  and  intelligent  animals 
were  eager  for  sport,  and  at  once  began  cautiously  scenting  along  the  border  of 
the  thicket.  They  were  not  the  same  kind  of  dogs  as  Uncle  Charley's.  They 
were  small  wiry  pointers,  with  short  hair  and  smooth,  sharp  tails.  Their  names 
were  Snip  and  Sly,  and  they  seemed  never  to  get  tired. 

"  You  'd  better' call  Snip  and  go  to  the  left ;  I  '11  take  Sly  and  go  to  the  i-ight," 
said  Mr.  Marvin.     ''  We  '11  be  apt  to  find  more  in  that  way." 

Snip  seemed  perfectly  content  with  the  arrangement.  He  went  as  Neil 
directed,  after  giving  him  a  bright  look,  as  if  to  say :  '*  Ha  !  you  're  going  to 
shoot  my  birds  for  me,  are  you'?" 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Neil  were  soon  lost  from  each  other's  sight.  Neil  went  ak)ng 
very  cautiously,  watching  every  movement  Sni})  nuide.  In  some  places  the 
bushes  and  weeds  were  so  tangled  that  it  recpiired  a  great  deal  of  struggling  to 
get  through  them.  The  ground  was  like  jelly  in  certain  spots,  shaking  and 
quivering  under  Neil's  feet.  Somehow,  Snip  passed  by  a  woodcock  without 
scenting  it,  and  it  flew  \i\)  from  a  spot  very  near  to  Neil's  feet.     Whiz !  went  its 


'The  morniuiJ:  \vu.>  louI  and  ^wcct. 


28  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

wings.  Its  rise  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  Neil  was  really  startled,  and 
he  stood  gazing  at  the  bird  until  it  dropped  again  down  into  the  cripple.  He 
had  entirely  forgotten  to  shoot  at  it ! 

The  next  moment  Snip  came  to  a  stanch  stand  a  little  farther  in  the  thicket. 
Neil  drew  a  long  breath  to  try  to  steady  his  nerves,  held  his  gun  in  position,  and 
walked  slowly  forward.  Flip !  whiz !  Out  of  a  tuft  of  tangled  weeds  rose  a 
fine  strong  bird,  its  wings  gleaming  brightly,  and  its  long  bill  thrust  forward. 
Neil  tried  to  keep  cool  and  aim  steadily ;  but  he  was  so  eager  to  kill  the  game 
that  he  fumbled  and  poked  with  his  gun  before  he  could  pull  the  trigger,  and 
the  bird  escaped. 

Snip  looked  inquiringly  at  the  young  sportsman,  as  if  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
this  slow  business  could  mean. 

Neil  heard  Mr.  Marvin  fire  several  times.  "  That  means  game  for  the  market- 
man,"  he  said  to  liimself  ;  '■'■he  does  n't  get  excited." 

It  required  a  great  deal  of  tramping  before  Snip  could  find  another  woodcock. 
This  time  Neil  behaved  in  a  more  sportsmanlike  way  ;  but  he  missed  the  bird, 
nevertheless.  He  had  shot  so  hurriedly,  in  order  to  hit  the  bird  before  it  got 
into  the  bushes  again,  that  his  aim  had  been  wrong. 

Bang!  bang!  he  heard  Mr.  Marvin's  gun  again,  some  distance  off.  Just 
then  he  stumbled  a  little,  and  stepped  upon  a  soft  place,  sinking  instantly  to  his 
armpits  in  a  slimy  slu.sh  of  mud  and  water.  He  seized  a  strong  bush  as  he  went 
down,  and  this  was  all  that  saved  him,  for  his  feet  did  not  touch  bottom.  His 
gun  had  fallen  across  some  tufts  of  weeds  and  grass,  so  that  it  did  not  sink. 

"  Ugh  !  ugh !  "  grunted  Neil,  as  the  ugly  black  mud  oozed  around  him. 

Then  he  began  to  struggle,  trying  to  get  out.  But  the  mud  clung  to  him  and 
he  could  gain  no  chance  to  use  the  strength  of  his  arms.  This  frightened  him, 
and  he  called  Mr.  Marvin  in  as  loud  a  voice  as  he  could  command.  There  was 
no  answer.  He  called  again  and  again  ;  still  no  answer.  The  whole  surround- 
ing country  had  suddenly  grown  as  noiseless  as  midnight.  Neil  was  a  brave  boy, 
but  his  heart  sank  as  he  thought  of  what  might  now  befall  him.  The  mud  was 
cold,  chilling  him  with  its  disgusting  touch.  He  heard  a  herdsman  singing  far 
away  on  the  prairie,  and  then  the  double  report  of  a  gun  in  the  extreme  dis- 
tance. Had  Mr.  Marvin  gone  off  after  a  flock  of  grouse  ?  The  thought  made 
Neil  nearly  desperate.  He  struggled  hard  and  long  to  draw  himself  out ;  but, 
to  his  dismay,  the  bush  to  which  he  was  clinging  began  to  show  signs  of  giving 
way.  If  it  should  break,  he  would  disappear  in  the  mud  and  never  be  seen 
again. 

He  called  Mr,  Marvin  again  and  again,  in  a  high,  clear  voice.  Bang  !  bang  ! 
sounded  the  gun  once  more,  apparently  a  little  nearer.  Neil  now  screanu'd  and 
yelled  desperat(^ly,  for  his  arms  were  growing  tiri'd  and  weak.  He  thought  of 
Hugh  and  Uncle  Charley  and  his  kind  fatlu'r  at  home.  He  looked  at  the  gun, 
and  it  flashed  into  his  head  that  his  foolish  desire  to  have  a  gun  had  been  the 
cause  of  his  dreadful  misfortune.     He  wished  he  were  at  home.     The  tears  were 


3fAIiVJX  AMJ   JUS  BOY  IHWTERS.  29 

running:  (^iown  his  cheeks,  and  he  was  quite  pale.  He  kept  up  his  doleful  callin^r, 
but  he  was  too  weak  to  stru^frle  any  longer.  Even  the  dog  seemed  to  have 
deserted  him  in  his  extreme  danuvr. 


YI. 

HUGH'S   FIRST   BIRD. 

SOON  after  Mr.  Marvin  and  Neil  had  ijone  away  toward  the  woodcock 
grounds,  Uncle  Charley  took  Hugh  and  went  to  look  for  grouse.  Hugh 
carried  Uncle  Charley's  small  gun,  and  as  they  walked  along,  watching  the  dogs 
circle  about  in  search  of  the  game,  Uncle  Charley  explained  the  (airious  process 
by  which  the  barrels  of  fine  shot-guns  are  made.     He  said : 

"  Those  beautiful  waved  lines  and  curious  flower-like  figures  that  appear  on  tlie 
surface  of  the  barrels  are  really  the  lines  of  welding,  showing  that  two  different 
metals,  iron  and  steel,  are  intimately  blended  in  making  the  finest  and  strongest 
barrels.  The  process  of  thus  welding  and  blending  steel  and  iron  is  a  very 
interesting  one.  Flat  bars,  or  ribbons,  of  steel  and  iron  are  alternately  arranged 
together  and  then  twisted  into  a  cable.  Several  of  these  cables  ai-e  then  welded 
together  and  shaped  into  a  long  flat  bar  which  is  next  spirally  coiled  around  a 
hollow  cylinder  called  a  mandrel,  after  which  the  edges  of  these  spiral  l)ars  are 
heated  and  firmly  welded.  The  spiral  coil  is  now  put  upon  what  is  called  a 
welding  mandrel,  is  again  heated  and  carefully  hammered  into  the  shape  of  a 
gun-barrel.  Next  comes  the  cold  hammering,  by  which  the  i)ores  of  the  metal 
are  securely  closed.  The  last  or  finishing  operation  is  to  turn  the  barrel  on  a 
lathe  to  exactly  its  proper  shape  and  size.  By  all  the  twistings  and  weldings 
and  hammerings,  the  metals  are  so  blended  that  the  mass  has  somewhat  the 
consistency  and  toughness  of  woven  steel  and  iron.  A  barrel  thus  made  is  very 
hard  to  burst.  But  the  finishing  of  the  inside  of  the  barrel  is  an  operation 
requiring  very  great  care  and  skill.  What  is  called  a  cylinder-bored  barrel  is 
where  the  bore  or  hole  through  the  barrel  is  made  of  uniform  size  from  end  to 
end.  A  choke-bore  is  one  that  is  a  little  smaller  at  the  muzzle  end  than  it  is  at 
the  breech  end.      There   are  various  wavs  of  'choking'  gun-barrels,   but  the 


30  BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 

oljjeet  of  all  methods  is  to  make  the  gun  throw  its  shot  close  together  with  even 
and  regular  distribution  and  with  great  force.  There  are  several  kinds  of 
metallic  combinations  that  gnnmakers  use,  the  principal  of  which  are  called 
Damascus,  Bernard,  and  laminated  (or  plated)  steel;  the  Damascus  barrels  are 
generally  considered  the  best." 

Hugh  had  listened  very  attentively  to  what  Uncle  Charley  said,  l)ut  he  was 
also  watcliing  the  dogs  as  they  searched  in  every  direction  for  grouse.  In  the 
midst  of  a  slough  Belt  came  to  a  stand,  but  Don  refused  to  back  him. 

"  There  's  a  prairie-chicken,  sure  !  "  exclaimed  Hugh,  holding  his  gun  ready. 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "for  Belt  acts  as  if  he  does  n't  feel  interest 
in  what  he  is  doing,  and  Don,  you  see,  refuses  to  back  him." 

"  I  '11  walk  up,  anyhow,"  said  Hugh,  ''  there  may  be  a  chicken." 

''  Don't  be  in  too  great  a  hurry ;  be  deliberate,  and,  if  a  bird  flies  up,  take  good 
aim  before  you  fire,"  said  Uncle  Charley. 

Hugh  proceeded  very  cautiously  througli  the  liigh  grass,  keeping  liis  eyes  alei-t 
and  his  hands  ready.  Uncle  Charley  stood  watching  liim.  Belt  turned  his  head 
to  one  side  and  behaved  rather  sheepishly,  as  if  ashamed  of  what  he  was  doing. 

Suddenly,  with  a  sharp  flapping  of  wings,  a  heavy'  bird  arose  from  a  tuft  f)f 
water-grass  and  slowly  flew  along  in  a  straight  line  away  from  Hugh.  Here 
was  the  main  chance  for  a  good,  easy  shot,  and  the  boy  did  not  neglect  his 
opportunity.  Up  went  his  gun,  a  good  steady  aim  was  taken,  and  then  the 
report  rang  out  on  the  air.     The  big  l)ird  fell  almost  straight  down. 

"  Well  done !  "  cried  Uncle  Charley,  laughing  loudly,  "  well  done  ! " 

But  Belt  refused  to  retrieve. 

Hugh  hurried  to  where  his  game  had  fallen,  and  picked  it  up.  Uncle  Charley 
kept  on  laughing. 

"  Why,  it's  a  thunder-pumper!  "  said  Hugh,  holding  the  l)ird  high  by  its  long 
.slim  legs.     ''  I  was  sure  it  was  a  chicken  !  " 

"  A  great  sportsman  you  are ! "  cried  Uncle  Charley,  ''  not  able  to  know  a 
bittern  from  a  grouse  !     Why,  Belt  knew  better  all  the  time  ! " 

"  Well,  I  hit  it,  all  the  same,  anyhow,"  responded  Hugh. 

"  That 's  nothing  to  boast  of,  I  should  say,"  remarked  Uncle  Charley ;  "  do 
you  know  how  many  shot  you  let  fly  at  that  bird  f " 

"  An  ounce  of  number  nines,  I  think,"  replied  Hugh. 

"But  how  many  pellets  are  there  in  an  ounce  of  numl)er  nine  shot?"  inquired 
Uncle  Charley. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Hugh. 

"Well,  there  are  five  hundred  and  ninety-six." 

"  So  many  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "you  had  five  hundred  and  ninety-six  chances  to 
hit  it." 

"I  am  sorry  I  killed  it,"  said  Hugh;  "  l)nt  1  thought  it  was  a  praii-ie-ehirken. 
It  is  a  vcrv  liandsotnc  l)ii-d;   is  it  of  anv  value?" 


3fAiiVix  Axn  HIS  HOY  nrxTHii'S. 


31 


f 


"^(¥^^ 


"  No,"  replied  Uncle  Charley ;  "'  but  the  IiuUiuis  formerly  hunted  them  for  their 
mandibles,  with  which  they  used  to  point  their  arrows  for  killinj;-  small  ^ame. 
See  how  sharp  they  are!  I  allowed  you  to  shoot  at  it  in  order  to  teach  you  a 
lesson.  First,  whenever  you  see  a  do<>:  aetinfj:  as  Belt  did,  you  may  be  sure  it  is 
not  pointing-  a  ganie-l)ir(l.  Second,  you  (»uuht  t<»  know  as  soon  as  a  bii-d  riso 
whether  or  not  it  is  of  a  kind  lit  to 


kill.  A  ti-ue  sportsman  is  always 
quick  with  liis  eyes,  and  never  com- 
mits the  mistake  of  shooting:  a  tliun- 
der-pumper  for  a  grouse  !"'  / 

"  How    did    I    handle    my    gun '? "      a^ 
inquired  Hugh,  "did  I  seem  to  know 
liow  to  sh(X)t  ? '' 

''You  hurried  too  much.  Tlie  bird 
hadn't  gone  twenty  feet  when  you  fired. 
You  must  remember  to  be  deliberate 
and  to  keep  your  wits  about  you." 

They  went  on,  and  the  dogs  soon 
pointed  a  small  flock  of  grouse  in  a 
field  of  Aveeds.  The  birds  were  in 
excellent   condition,   scarcely    grown, 

and    flew    slowly;     but    Hugh    missed  a  omom.  ,„•  ■■  ,nunu..,-pumper. 

four  before  he  killed  one.  He  banged  away  at  every  wing  he  saw.  Uncle 
Charley  several  times  scolded  him  roundly  for  his  careless  shooting.  He 
promised  to  be  very  cautious  ;  l)ut  lie  had  not  fired  a  half-dozen  more  shots 
before  he  hit  Belt  in  the  ear  with  a  pellet,  making  him  howl  at  a  terrible  rate. 

"  One  more  heedless  action,"  cried  Uncle  Charley,  "  and  I  '11  take  that  gun 
from  you  and  never  allow  you  to  touch  it  again  !  I  never  saw  any  one  so 
awkward.     You  a(;t  as  if  you  had  no  eyes  !  " 

Hugh  felt  greatly  chagrined.  The  tears  came  into  his  eyes  as  Belt  ran  up, 
with  bleeding  ear,  to  fondle  about  him.  Of  course  the  hurt  was  very  slight, 
but  Hugh's  conscience  told  him  that  he  had  been  foolishly  careless  after  all  that 
had  been  said  to  him.  He  resolved  in  his  heart  never  again  to  allow  his  eager- 
ness and  enthusiasm  to  drive  away  his  prudence  and  caution. 

All  the  morning',  as  we  have  said,  the  sky  had  been  overcast  with  a  film  of 
clouds.  About  ten  o'clock  it  began  to  drizzle,  and  so  our  hunters  turned  toward 
the  camp.  Uncle  Charley  had  killed  a  dozen  chickens  and  Hugh  had  killed  one. 
They  reached  the  tents  just  as  the  rain  l)egan  to  fall  heavily. 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Neil  had  not  returned. 

"I  giTess  they're  in  for  a  good  old-fashioned  wetting,"  said  Hugh. 

"Are  n't  th(\v  coming  yonder.'"  I^nele  Charley  in(|uired.  pointing  at  two  dark 
spots  far  out  on  the  prairie,  barely  diseei-iii)»le  tlii-ougli  tlie  gray,  slanting  lines 
of  rain. 


32 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


"  I  can't  tell,"  said  Hiigli ;  ''  they  are  so  far  away  and  the  air  is  so  full  of  mist.'" 
Vnele  Charley  showed  Hii«rh  how  to  clean  his  gun  inside  and  how  to  wipe  it 

dry  (mtside  before  putting  it  into  its  case. 

A  good  gun  requires  careful  usage.   Kust  must  never  be  allowed  to  appear 

anywhere  about  it,  especially  on  the  inside. 


YII. 

MR.     JIARVIN     TALKS 

ABOUT    MARKET- 

HUXTENG. 


w 


'HEN,  at  last, 
Mr.  Marvin 
heard  Neil's  cries,  he 
hastened  to  the  spot 
whence  they  pro- 
ceeded, and  perceived 
at  once  that  the  lad 
was  in  a  dangerous 
predicament.  Pick- 
ing up  Neil's  gun,  he 
fired  both  barrels  in- 
to the  air,  to  provide 
against  accident,  as 
he  wished  to  nse  the 
gun  in  getting  Neil 
out  of  the  mire. 
Treading  carefully, 
he  extended  the  stock 
of  the  empty  gun 
toward  Neil,  who 
clutched  it  with  a 
strong  grip  the  mo- 
ment it  came  within 

his  reach.  And  thus  the  })oy  was  drawn  sh.wl  v  but  surely  out  of  the  mud,  and  at 
last  regained  his  footing  upon  firm  ground.  Tie  could  not  sufficiently  express  his 
thankfulness  to  Mr.  Marvin,  and  declared  li.'  could  not  have  held  on  much  longer. 


MARVIX  AXn  HIS  BOY  IirXTKJiS.  33 

So  the  two  dark  forms,  so  indistinctly  seen  by  Uncle  Charley  and  Biv^rh,  proved 
to  be  Mr.  Marvin  and  Neil,  thonj^h  the  latter  h)()ked  more  like  a  rough  model  in 
mud  than  like  a  real  live  boy.  He  was  completely  incrusted  in  the  sticky,  slimy 
muck  of  the  marsh,  which,  l)eing  very  black,  made  his  face  look  almost  ghostly 
pale. 

'' AVliy,  what  in  the  world  is  tlie  matter,  Neil?"  cried  Hugh,  as  at  last  lie 
recognized  him. 

Neil  laughed  rather  dolefully,  glancing  down  over  his  unpleasant  coat  of 
mud-mail. 

-I  fell  into  a  quagmire  up  yonder,"  he  replied.  "I  think  if  I  had  let  go  I 
should  have  gone  clear  down  to  China !     Mr.  Marvin  pulled  me  out." 

''  The  boy  went  swimming  in  a  loblolly  of  prairie  mud,"  said  Mr.  Marvin  ;  ''  it 
made  him  very  clean,  you  see." 

Neil  was  soon  quite  comfortable,  and,  when  dinner  was  ready,  he  ate  heartily, 
and  enjoyed  all  the  jokes  that  were  made  over  his  singular  and  dangerous 
adventure.  But  he  could  not  help  shuddering  now  and  then  as  he  thought 
of  the  desperate  situation  from  which  Mr.  Marvin  had  snatched  him  at  the  last 
moment. 

'' I '11  notice  where  I'm  stepping  when  I  go  into  another  swamp,  I  can  tell 
you,"  he  said ;  ''  I  'm  not  anxious  for  any  more  such  plunges." 

"You  and  Hugh  must  be  two  of  the  most  careless  boys  in  the  world,"  said 
Uncle  Charley.  "  Hugh  came  near  shooting  me  and  did  shoot  Belt,  and  at  the 
same  time  you  were  trying  to  swim  in  quick-mud ! " 

"Oh,  the  boys  will  be  all  right,"  remarked  Mr.  Marvin;  "they  only  need  to 
watch  and  learn.     Each  mishap  will  t(^ach  them  a  lesson." 

The  rain  continued  all  the  rest  of  the  day.  It  came  steadily  down  in  fine  drops, 
and  made  the  prairie  look  sad  and  dreary  enough.  The  dogs  curled  themselves 
up  under  a  wagon,  mth  their  noses  between  their  feet,  and  slept,  no  doubt 
dreaming  of  grouse  and  woodcock. 

During  the  afternoon,  the  conversation  turned  on  market-hunting,  and  Mr. 
Marvin  told  the  boys  many  interesting  facts  about  his  business. 

"  I  do  not  shoot  much  game  for  the  general  market,"  he  said.  "  The  most  of 
what  I  kill  goes  to  wealthy  individuals  with  whom  I  have  contracts.  By  taking 
great  care  in  packing  and  shipping  my  game,  I  have  managed  to  get  the  confi- 
dence of  some  rich  epicures  and  some  private  clubs  in  the  cities  of  Chicago, 
Cincinnati,  and  New  York,  and  they  pay  me  nearly  double  what  I  could  get  in 
the  general  market.  They  usually  allow  me  twenty-five  cents  each  for  prairie- 
chickens,  twenty  cents  each  for  quails,  and  forty  cents  each  for  woodcock  ;  so 
you  see  the  eight  woodcock  I  killed  this  morning  will  gain  me  three  dollars 
and  twenty  cents.  My  employers  pay  the  express  charges  and  often  send  me 
supplies  of  ammunition,  so  that  my  expenses  are  very  light.  I  have  made  as 
much  as  fifteen  dollars  a  day  shooting  geese  at  fifty  cents  each.  Spring, 
3 


34 


JiOY^'   HOOK   OF  SI'OHTS. 


summer,  and  autumn  I  spend  in  the  North  and  West ;  in  winter  I  go  south  to 
Georgia  and  Florida,  where  I  find  the  best  of  shooting.  In  North  Georgia,  for 
instance,  there  are  many  old  plantations  partly  grown  up  in  broom-sedge,  the 

greatest  covert  for  quail  that  I  ever 
saw.  In  Florida  I  do  not  shoot  much 
game  as  it  is  hard  to  get  ice  with 
which  to  pack  it,  and  the  shipping 
facilities  are  not  good  ;  but  I  kill 
lierons  and  roseate  spoonbiUs  and 
ibises  for  their  feathers,  and  I  collect 
rare  specimens  for  the  Smithsonian 
Institute.  You  should  see  some  of 
the  curious  bird's-nests  I  have  sent 
to  the  Institute  —  herons'  nests  from 
the  Okeechobee  region,  cuckoos'  nests 
from  Georgia,  rails'  nests  from  the 
Kankakee,  and  nests  of  the  Canada 
jay  from  the  pine-woods  of  Canada. 
I  have  sold  great  numbers  of  eggs, 
too,  to  collectors  and  scientific  men." 
''What  a  grand  time  you  have  had," 
exclaimed  Hugh,  ''going  from  one  fine 
hunting-ground  to  another,  always  es- 
caping our  cold,  dreary  winters,  and 
always  out  in  the  free  open  air  with 
your  dogs  and  guns.  How  I  should 
like  to  be  a  market-hunter  !  " 


"You'd  soon  be- 
come tired  of  it," 
replied  Mr.   Mar- 
vin ;  "  there  are  many  disap- 
pointnu'uts     and    vexatious 
,    ,,.  drawbacks  connected  with  it. 

nd  iiUiiLrator.  „ 

At  some  seasons,  game  or 
shooting  becomes  very  dull  work.  I  remember  that 
several  years  ago  I'conld  liardly  find  chickens  enough  on  the  ]u-airie  for  my  own 
boiling.     Of  course,  I  like  the  business ;  it  just  suits  me ;  but  I  do  not  advise  any 


all  kind.'- 


Pickau; 


scarce,  and 


MAIiVIX  AND   HIS  BOY  IICMKUS.  35 

boy  to  think  of  trviiio-  it.  With  sti-iiijj^eut  ^ame-laws  and  tiic  <^ro\vin(^  oppoj^i- 
tion  to  free  hnuting-  by  the  hmcUords,  the  time  is  near  wlien  a  market-hunter 
will  have  a  poor  ehanee  for  a  living'." 

'^  Mr.  Marvin,"  said  Neil,  *'  is  woodcock-shooting  always  surrounded  by  as 
many  difficulties  as  we  have  just  experienced  ?  If  it  is,  I  shall  ask  to  be  excused 
from  indulging  in  the  si)ort  hereafter." 

Mr.  Marvin  chuckled  in  his  droll  way,  and  said : 

''  Well,  Neil,  a  fellow  does  n't  always  have  to  dive  into  mud-sinks,  as  you  did. 
I  remember  some  fine  woodcock-shooting  I  once  had  in  Southern  Florida.  I 
found  a  little  open  glade,  between  two  feeding-places,  over  which  the  birds  would 
fly  to  and  fro,  in  the  evening  twilight.  I  took  my  stand  at  a  favorable  point,  and 
fired  at  them  as  they  passed.  At  first  I  could  not  shoot  well  in  so  dim  a  light ; 
but  after  a  while  I  was  able  to  fetch  them  down  quite  as  easily  as  in  midday." 

"Ah,  Florida;  that's  the  place,"  cried  Hugh,  ''I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  get 
there  ?  I  've  read  so  many  delightful  accounts  of  its  fine  climate,  its  delicious 
fruits,  and  its  abundance  of  birds.  Did  you  see  any  alligators  while  you  were 
there?" 

"  Yes,  many  a  one,"  said  Mr.  Marvin.  ''  I  remember  during  one  season 
when  I  was  shooting  herons  down  in  the  big  cypress  region,  that  I  used 
occasionally  to  go  over  to  a  cattle-man's  house  to  get  a  supply  of  salt.  This 
man  had  a  family  of.  negroes,  among  them  a  coal-black  pickaninny  about 
five  years  old,  who  took  a  great  liking  to  me,  and  would  always  try  to  follow  me 
away.  Of  course,  he  was  not  allowed  to  do  this;  but  one  day  it  seems  that 
the  little  fellow,  quite  naked  and  bare-headed,  managed  to  elude  every  one. 
When  I  had  gone  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  on  my  way  to  my  camp,  just  after 
I  had  crossed  a  dark  little  stream  by  means  of  a  foot-log,  I  heard  a  child  scream. 
I  ran  back  as  quickly  as  I  could,  for  I  knew  that  scream  was  one  that  meant 
something  terrible.  When  I  reached  the  stream  I  saw  a  huge  creature  mo\dng 
across  the  path  and  soon  made  out  that  it  was  an  alligator.  I  cocked  my  gun 
and  hurried  forward,  but  too  late, —  the  big  saurian  had  slid  safely  into  the  water 
of  an  ugly  pond.  I  looked  about  in  a  bewildered  way,  my  heart  as  faint  as  a 
sick  man's.  Everything  seemed  as  still  as  death.  Suddenly  a  well-known  voice 
came  from  the  lower  limbs  of  a  scrubljy  tree : 

"  '  Massa  Marbin,  d  —  d — dat  g  —  g  —  'gator  scare  m  —  m  —  me  m  —  ni  — 
mos'  to  def.' 

'^I  looked,  and  there,  curled  u})  like  a  coon  in  a  fork  of  the  tree,  lay  the 
pickaninny,  safe  and  sound.     He  never  tried  to  follow  me  again." 

"  I  am  curious  to  know  something  more  about  woodcock-hunting,"  said  Neil, 
whose  disaster  had  only  whetted  his  appetite  f(^r  sport. 

"  I  once  hunted  in  Michigan  with  an  Englishman,  who  put  bells  on  his  dogs 
when  he  went  Avoodcock-huntiug,"  said  ]Mr.  Marvin. 

"  AVhy  f "  queried  Hugh. 


36  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

"  Well,  wheu  the  dogs  got  into  thick  covert,  he  coiild  trace  their  course  by  the 
sound  of  the  bells,  and  whenever  the  tinkling  ceased,  he  knew  they  were  point- 
ing birds." 

*'  That  was  not  a  bad  idea,"  said  Neil. 

'*  He  was  a  jolly  fellow,  that  Englishman,"  continued  Mr.  Marvin  ;  ''  he  liked 
a  droll  joke,  even  if  it  were  against  himself.  He  told  me  that  one  day  he  went 
out  to  a  woodcock  covert  with  a  belled  dog,  and  after  following  the  sound  back 
and  forth,  and  around  and  around  in  the  tangled  growth,  suddenly  the  tinkling 
ceased.  Very  much  pleased,  he  went  to  the  spot  expecting  to  flush  a  bird,  but 
he  could  find  neither  his  dog  nor  any  woodcock.  Long  and  patiently  he  tramped 
about  the  spot  to  no  purpose.  Then  he  called  his  dog ;  it  did  not  come.  Here 
was  a  mystery.  Could  it  be  possible  that  his  dog  had  fallen  dead  in  some  dense 
clump  of  the  covert  ?  He  called  until  he  was  hoarse,  and  finally  went  back  to 
camp  tired  and  mystified.  And  there  lay  his  dog  at  the  tent  door,  dozing  in  the 
sun.     It  had  lost  the  bell ! " 

"  Where  do  you  find  the  most  profitable  market-hunting  ? "  inquired  Uncle 
Charley. 

"  When  the  autumn  flight  of  geese  and  ducks  is  good,  I  get  my  best  shooting 
in  the  Kankakee  region  of  Indiana  and  Illinois,"  said  Mr.  Marvin  ;  ''  but  turkey- 
shooting  in  North  Georgia  used  to  be  very  profitable." 

"  Have  you  never  hunted  large  game,  such  as  deer  and  bear  ? "  queried  Hugh. 

"  Not  much  ;  it  does  not  pay.  I  don't  care  for  anything  larger  than  a  goose 
or  a  turkey.  AVIien  it  comes  to  real  sport,  quail-shooting  is  the  very  best  of  all,*' 
replied  Mr.  Marvin. 

^' You  are  right,"  said  Unc-le  Charley,  ''the  quail  is  the  noblest  game-bird  in 
America." 

''A  thunder-pumper  is  not  bad  game  when  a  fellow  is  keen  for  a  shot."  said 
Hugh,  wdth  a  comical  grimace.  Uncle  Charley  laughed,  remembering  how  Hugh 
looked  as  he  stood  holding  up  tlie  bittern  after  he  had  shot  it. 

Neil  and  Mr.  Marvin  did  not  understand  the  joke,  or  they  would  have  lauglied 
too.  It  was  not  fair  to  Neil,  perhaps,  to  thus  keep  Hugh's  mistake  a  secret  after 
Neil's  mishap  had  been  so  fully  discussed,  but  Hugh  was  the  younger,  and  Uncle 
Charley  favored  him  on  that  account. 

When  night  came  it  was  still  raining  steadily.  Mr.  ]Marvin  remained  talking 
with  Uncle  Charley  and  the  boys  until  late  bed-time.  He  told  nuiny  of  his 
strange  adventures  and  described  a  number  of  pleasing  incidents  connected  with 
his  tramps  l)y  flood  and  field.  It  was  especially  interesting  to  hear  him  describe 
the  habits  of  birds  and  animals  as  he  had  observed  them.  But  Neil,  whoso 
practical  and  philosophic  turn  of  mind  led  him  to  desire  information  that  would 
be  of  general  benefit,  asked  many  questions  concerning  i)ractical  gunnery. 

'^  Mr.  Marvin,"  he  said,  "  there  is  a  proposition  of  natural  philoso])hy  laid  down 
in  my  school-book  which  bothers  inc.    Tlie  ])ook  states  that  a  body,  say  a  Imllet, 


3IARV1X  A  XI)   fffS   BOY  HUNTERS. 


37 


A  covey  of  quail— '"the  noblest  game-bird  in  America." 

for  instance,  when  thrown  upward,  will  fall  to  the  earth  with  the  same  force  as 
that  with  which  it  started.  Now,  if  this  is  true,  why  do  we  never  hear  of  any 
one  beinjy  hit  and  killed  by  a  falling-  bullet  ? " 

''  Your  school-book  is  mistaken,  if  that  is  what  it  says,"  replied  Mr.  :\Iarvin. 
"A  bullet  shot  from  a  rifle  directly  upward  will  start  with  a  force  sufficient  to 
drive  it  through  three  or  four  inches  of  hard  oak  wood.  It  will  fall  with 
scarcely  force  enough  to  dent  the  same  wood.  I  have,  in  shooting  vertically  at  wild 
pigeons  flying  above  me,  had  number  eight  shot  fall  on  my  head  and  shoulders 
witliout  injury  to  me.  The  difficulty  with  the  philosophical  theory  is  that  it  does 
not  consider  correctly  the  resistance  of  the  atmosphere  and  the  comparative 
bulk  and  shape  of  falling  bodies.  Now,  an  arrow  with  a  heavy  point  will  come 
much  nearer  falling  with  its  initial  velocity  than  will  a  round  bullet ;  because 
the  arrow,  falling  point  downward,  has  all  the  weight  of  the  shaft  directly  over 
the  point,  which  makes  it  nearly  the  same  as  if  it  were  a  bullet  of  just  the  point's 
diametei",  but  weighing  as  much  as  the  whole  arrow." 


38  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOIiTS. 

*'  I  see,"  said  Neil ;  "  I  wish  I  could  have  studied  that  out  myself." 

"  Oh,  I  dou't  like  investigations  and  study  and  all  that,"  cried  Hugh ;  "  I  like 
fun  and  adventure  and  the  pleasant,  merry  things  of  life." 

''  But  the  habit  of  investigation  is  most  important,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  gravely  ; 
"  it  prevents  accident  through  ignorance  and  mistake,  and  it  often  leads  to 
valuable  discoveries.  You  will  never  be  a  successful  man  if  you  refuse  to  study 
and  investigate.  I  should  not  wish  to  trust  a  boy  alone  with  a  gun,  if  he 
thought  of  nothing  but  fun  and  frolic.  He  'd  soon  kill  himself  or  some  one 
else." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Marvin  went  away  to  his  own  tent,  leaving  the  boys 
to  reflect  upon  what  he  had  said. 


VIII. 

IN   THE   PRAIRIE   WEEDS, 

NEXT  morning  the  sky  was  bright  and  clear.  The  wind  had  changed  around 
to  the  north,  blowing  cool  and  sweet  over  the  damp  grass.  Meadow  larks 
were  singing  clearly  as  they  swayed  on  the  weed-tops  with  their  yellow  breasts 
shining  like  gold.  Prairie-hawks  sailed  here  and  there,  or,  poising  themselves  in 
the  air  with  their  long,  slender  wings,  seemed  to  rest  above  some  particular  spot 
for  a  time,  as  if  studying  something  on  the  ground.  Kildee  plovers  flew  along 
the  brook  or  ran  about  on  a  little  marshy  space  hard  by,  piping  in  their  noisy, 
peculiar  way.  There  was  the  booming  of  the  grouse  and  the  distant  lowing  of 
cattle  blending  together;  all  nature  seemed  refreshed  and  happy.  The  sun  soon 
dried  the  grass,  and  the  boys  were  eager  to  be  off  after  the  game.  Belt  and  Don 
sniffed  the  sweet  air,  and  Snip  and  Sly  leaped  and  frisked  in  glad  anticipation 
of  a  wide,  free  range  over  the  prairie. 

Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin  had  arranged  for  a  hunt  in  a  stretch  of  weed 
prairie  lying  about  a  mile  and  a  half  west  of  the  camp.  One  side  of  this  par- 
ticular weed  field  was  bordered  by  a  luxuriant  corn  plantation,  another  side  by 
a  wheat  field. 

Neil  and  Hugh,  armed  with  the  small-bore  guns  belonging  to  Uncle  t'liarley 
and  Mr.  Marvin,  stepped  proudly  and  briskly  ah)ng,  listening  to  the  Avords  of 
advice  and  caution  which  those  kind  gentlemen  were  speaking  for  their  benefit. 

''  Don't  be  too  eager,"  s.ud  Mr.  Marvin.  "  Eagerness  begets  carelessness. 
Keep  your  wits  about  you." 

It  was  a  beautiful  sight  to  see  the  four  dogs  ranging  at  a  brisk  gallop,  each 
ambitious  to  scent  the  first  bird.    Snip  took  the  prize  before  reaching  the  weedy 


3IAMVIX  AXJ)   HIS  BOY  HUNTERS.  39 

part  of  the  prairie,  by  coming  to  a  stanch  stand  on  a  higli  knoll  where  the  grass 
was  very  short  and  thin.  In  a  nioinent  the  three  other  dogs  had  backed  him. 
"  Snrely  there  are  no  birds  tlu'i'c,''  said  Xeil;  "we  conld  see  them;  there's 
nothing  to  hide  them.'' 

Hugli  had  nervously  brought  his  gun  to  the  position  of  "ready." 

"  Steady  now,  steady,  Hugh  ;  you  are  not  to  get  excnted,"  said  Uncle  Charley, 
who  was  by  the  boy's  side. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  all  right,"  replied  Hugh  ;  but  he  was  trembling.  He  was  suffering 
from  what  is  called  "  huntei-'s  ague."  His  eagerness  to  get  a  shot  had  overcome 
his  nerves. 

"  Don't  shoot  until  you  're  certain  what  you  're  shooting  at,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Marvin,  loud  enough  for  both  l)oys  to  hear  him,  "  and,  above  all,  l)e  careful 
not  to  hit  the  dogs." 

The  huntei's  moved  on  in  a  row,  keeping  about  ten  paces  apart,  Mr.  Marvin  at 
one  end.  Uncle  Charley  at  the  other,  and  the  boys  in  the  middle.  Every  dog  stood 
as  rigid  as  a  post. 

"  Hold  the  muzzle  of  your  gun  higher,"  growled  Mr.  Marvin  as  Xeil  stumbled 
over  an  uneven  place. 

By  this  time  Hugh  was  almost  breathless  with  excitement.  He  tried  des- 
perately to  control  himself  and  ])ehave  coolly,  but  his  nervousness  constantly 
increased. 

A  few  more  steps,  and  up  rose  a  scattered  flock  of  birds — grouse,  scarcely  old 
enough  to  fly  with  full  power,  but  in  excellent  condition  for  market.  Uncle 
Charley  fired  right  and  left,  bringing  dow^n  two  ;  Mr.  Marvin  did  tlie  same.  Neil 
killed  a  bird  at  his  second  shot,  but  Hugh  blazed  awiiy  somewhat  at  random 
and  did  not  touch  a  feather. 

"  Mark  where  they  pitch  down,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Marvin ;  "they  're  fine  birds  — 
just  old  enough  to  suit  the  epicures."  He  was  a  little  excited  too;  l)ut  he 
was  cpiite  deliberate,  nevertheless. 

At  last  the  birds,  rounding  a  little  in  their  course,  settled  into  the  weeds. 

"  Where 's  your  game,  Hugh  ? "  said  Uncle  Charley,  as  the  dogs  brought  in  the 
dead  grouse. 

"  I  think  I  missed,"  murmured  Hugh. 

"  Better  luck  next  time,"  remarked  Mr.  Marvin,  in  a  tone  of  encouragement. 
They  all  reloaded  their  guns  and  started  on  at  a  brisk  pace.  No  one  was  expect- 
ing such  a  thing,  when  a  strong  chicken  flushed  right  at  Neil's  toes.  It  dazed 
him  so  that  he  did  not  think  of  shooting;  but  Hugh  whipped  up  his  gun  with 
impetuous  haste  and  banged  away  with  both  barrels.  Down  canu^  the  bird,  with 
almost  half  its  feathers  stripped  off.  Both  loads  had  taken  effect  at  not  over 
twelve  yards  distance  ! 

"Hurrah  for  you,  Hugh!"  shouted  Uncle  Charley.  "You  beat  us  all  that 
time." 


40 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


'  <r  ^u- 


•f  -- 


<-':J 


V;v 


'  ■  :'/^3 


,/>rV   V-^^  -^^ 


■7^, 


>'f 


r^ 


"I  killed  it,  anyway,"  remarked  Hugh. 

"  Shot  the  bird  all  into  strings,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "  fired  too  soon  ;  that  grouse 
can  never  be  eaten." 

''  I  don't  care;  I  killed  it,  anyway,"  remarked  Hugh  as  he  picked  up  the  riddled 
carcass. 

"  Yes/'  persisted  Mr.  Marvin,  "  but  it 's  a  shame  to  kill  anything  in  such  a 
way  as  to  render  it  worthless.     You  must  try  to  be  more  deliberate." 

Hugh  thought  to  himself  that  surely  he  could  master  this  fault,  and  he 
firmly  resolved  to  do  it. 

Presently  they  reached  a  fence  that  stood  between  them  and  the  weed  field. 
Mr.  Marvin  halted  and  took  the  shells  out  of  his  gun. 

"  What  are  you  unloading  for  ?"  asked  Hugh. 

"  I  never  climb  over  a  fence  with  a  loaded  gun  in  my  liands,"  said  ^Iv.  ]\Iarvin  ; 
"  a  large  number  of  the  dreadful  hunting  accidents  we  hear  of  are  caused  by  not 
observing  this  sim])le  rule." 

Hugh  took  out  his  shells,  too,  and  by  a  side  glance  saw  Uncle  Charley  and 
Neil  do  likewise. 


MARVIX  AXJJ   HIS  BOY  HUXTEBS.  41 

'^  One  of  my  best  frieuds  was  killed  by  falling  off  a  fence  vrith  a  loaded  gnn  in 
his  band,"  Mr.  Marvin  added.     "  One  can  never  be  too  careful." 

The  weed  covert  into  which  the  game  had  gone  proved  to  Ijc  troublesome. 
The  rich  soil  of  the  prairie  had  sent  up  such  a  tall  growth  that  Hugh  and  Neil 
would  have  been  lost  in  it,  so  they  had  to  stay  on  the  edges  of  the  thickest  part 
while  Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  went  in  with  the  dogs  and  flushed  the 
grouse.     Soon  a  lively  firing  began. 

"  Mark  chicken  !  "  one  of  the  men  would  cry  whenever  a  l)ird  would  rise,  and 
then  the  guns  would  begin  to  roar.  Bang,  bang,  this  way;  bang,  bang,  that 
way;  the  game  whizzing  up  and  dropping  down  ;  the  dogs  fetching  in  the  dead 
birds  and  all  hands  eager  and  active. 

"  Be  careful  where  you  shoot !  "  yelled  Hugh,  as  Uncle  Charley  sent  a  load  of 
shot  hurtling  through  the  weeds  quite  close  to  the  excited  lad. 

The  boys  banged  away  at  every  bird  that  came  near  them.  Neil  was  begin- 
ning to  show  some  skill,  fetching  down  his  game  quite  often  and  in  good  style ; 
but  Hugh  could  not  be  patient  and  painstaking  enough. 

The  birds  that  escaped  the  guns  went  over  into  the  wheat-stul )ble,  and,  scat- 
tering widely,  offered  a  chance  for  some  good  sport.  Hugh  took  Snip  and  went 
to  where  he  had  marked  down  three  of  them.  The  dog  soon  pointed  one  in  a 
place  where,  owing  to  some  thick  weeds,  the  wheat  had  been  left  uncut.  Hugh 
stopped  for  a  minute  to  try  to  steady  himself,  and  then  went  slowly  on,  glancing 
rapidly  in  every  du-ection,  for  he  did  not  know  just  at  what  point  the  game 
would  rise.  Now,  a  good  sportsman  never  allows  his  eyes  to  v/ander  at  such  a 
time,  but  keeps  them  fixed  steadily  to  the  front ;  in  that  way  he  can  see  a  bird 
rise  anywhere  within  the  space  covered  by  even  the  dimmest  part  of  his  vision. 
Then,  too,  he  trusts  to  his  ears  to  warn  him  of  the  first  flutter  of  a  wing  in  the 
covert.  It  is  not  strange,  however,  that  Hugh  showed  signs  of  excitement.  Some 
of  the  greatest  and  bravest  men  that  ever  lived  have  been  so  fond  of  field-sports 
that  the  sight  of  a  bevy  of  quails  or  the  sound  of  a  pheasant's  wings  would 
arouse  in  them  a  mighty  desire  for  a  dog  and  a  gun.  But,  boys,  I  may  say  just 
here,  you  will  find  no  instance  recorded  in  history  where  a  dog  and  a  gun  ever 
made  a  man's  life  great.  Like  every  other  pastime,  hunting  should  be  a  means 
of  recreation,  if  not  of  pecuniary  profit  as  in  the  case  of  the  market-hunter. 

Hugh  felt  his  heart  beating  rapidly,  but  he  kept  himself  fairly  steady  until  he 
flushed  the  bird.  Then  his  gun  flew  up  too  quickly,  and  he  did  n't  wait  to  take 
aim.  Of  course  he  missed,  but  he  quickly  recovered  himself  and  did  better  with 
the  left  barrel,  bringing  down  the  game.  Snip  retrieved  the  bird  and  was 
fetching  it  in,  when  suddenly  he  stopped  and  pointed  with  the  game  in  his 
mouth.  This  was  a  very  rare  exhibition  of  scenting  power.  Hugh  flushed  the 
bird  from  the  stubble  and  weeds.  It  rose  almost  vertically  and  flew  right  over 
his  head  in  the  direction  toward  which  his  back  was  turned.  Tiie  shot  was  a 
difficult  one  at  best,  but  Hugh  turned  cpiickly  and  pulled  first  the  right-hand 


42  BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SB  OUT  S. 

trigger,  then  the  left-hand  one.  The  gun  failed  to  fire.  He  looked,  and  found 
that  he  had  forgotten  to  reload  !  Snip  seemed  disappointed.  His  eyes  turned 
in(iuiriugly  toward  Hugh's  face,  as  if  to  say  :  ''  That  was  a  poor  response  to  my 
splendid  performance  ! "  Hugh  acknowledged  to  himself  that  here  was  another 
result  of  his  impetuosity  and  carelessness. 

"  I  shall  learn  something  after  a  while,  if  I  keep  on  trying,"  lie  thought,  as  he 
opened  the  breech  of  his  gun  and  slipped  in  the  shells. 

Meantime,  Neil  had  been  having  some  fine  luck.  His  coolness  and  carefulness 
excited  the  admiration  of  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin.  In  fact,  he  hit  nearly 
as  often  as  he  missed,  and  when  the  shooting  was  over,  his  game-bag  held 
seven  birds. 

They  all  returned  to  camp  at  about  one  o'clock.  Uncle  Charley  invited  ]Mr. 
Marvin  to  dine  with  him.  WhUe  the  meal  lasted,  the  boys  were  entertained  with 
an  account  of  a  cunning  method  of  trapping  singing-liirds  for  the  market. 

"  I  met  a  young  fellow  once,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "  who  was  catching  singing- 
birds  for  the  market.  Mocking-birds,  cardinal-grosbeaks,  orioles,  and  many 
other  kinds  of  beautiful  wild-birds  were  snared  by  him  in  a  curious  trap, 
wliich  consisted  of  a  triangular  cage  with  a  spring  in  the  form  of  a  wing  of 
thread  netting  having  a  wire  rim.  His  method  of  trapping  was  to  put  a  live 
bii-d  of  the  kind  he  wished  to  catch,  say  an  orchard-oriole,  in  the  body  of  the 
triangular  cage.  Then  he  would  take  the  cage  into  an  orchard  or  grove  and 
hang  it  to  a  bough  of  a  tree  in  a  cozy,  leafy  place  where  a  bii-d  would  be  likely 
to  alight  and  sing.  He  would  then  draw  down  the  wungs  of  the  cage  until  they 
were  spread  out  almost  horizontally  on  each  side,  where  they  were  held  in  place 
by  a  jointed  drop-trigger.  He  would  now  go  away  to  some  distance,  and  from 
a  secret  hiding-place  watch  for  the  result.  As  soon  as  it  was  left  alone  the  bird 
in  the  cage  would  begin  to  chirp  and  call.  Then,  from  somewhere  in  the  grove 
or  orchard  would  come  an  answer ;  nearer  and  nearer  would  sound  this  new 
voice,  and  at  last  a  gleam  of  gay  wings  and  a  delicate  rustling  of  tiny  feathers 
would  mark  the  victim's  arrival  at  the  cage.  For  a  time  the  new-comer  would 
hop  around  on  the  boughs  near  the  trap,  twittering  and  peering,  and  finally 
down  it  would  settle  on  the  drop-trigger,  to  be  instantly  caught  by  the  net  of  the 
drop-wing.  The  young  man  made  (piite  a  snug  salary  at  this  business  ;  but  I  did 
not  like  it.  There  was  a  refinement  of  cruelty  and  treachery  about  the  method 
that  repelled  me.  Let  the  bright  wee  little  fellows  remain  free  to  sing  in  the 
leafy  groves  and  orchards,  I  say  ;  for  they  are  half  the  color  and  beauty  of  every 
wild  landscape.  I  think  there  's  a  vast  difference  between  a  market-hunter 
and  a  song-bird-trapper." 


'lu  leafy  groves  and  orchards. 


44  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


IX. 

A  NEW  PROSPECT  OPENS  TO  THE  BOYS. 

A  FEW  more  days  spent  on  the  prairie  in  delightful  tramps  and  instruetive 
conversation  with  Mr.  Mar\dn,  and  the  hunt  was  ended.  Uncle  Charley 
declared  the  time  up,  and  gave  orders  to  have  the  tents  struck  and  the  wagons 
made  ready  for  the  return  to  the  village. 

Before  separating,  however,  Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  held  a  long  con- 
sultation, the  result  of  which  was  an  arrangement  for  a  winter's  campaign  in 
the  finest  game  regions  of  Georgia  and  Florida. 

Uncle  Charley  promised  Neil  and  Hugh  that  he  would  try  to  prevail  upon 
their  father  to  let  them  go  along  with  him. 

'•  If  he  will  let  you  go,"  continued  Uncle  Charley,  ''  I  will  buy  you  each  a  good 
gun  and  a  complete  outfit." 

Hugh  fairly  Ixnmded  for  joy,  and  Neil's  face  grew  rosy  with  his  great  delight. 

They  bade  Mr.  Marvin  good-bye,  with  a  great  hope  of  meeting  him  a  month 
or  two  later ;  and  then,  with  their  faces  set  toward  home,  they  drove  off  across 
the  rolling  prairie.  Those  had  been  happy  days,  and  the  boys,  all  sunburned 
and  ruddy  with  health,  were  now  anxious  to  get  back  to  their  father  and  the 
young  friends  with  whom  they  associated  in  the  village.  Their  mother  had 
been  dead  for  some  years ;  consequently,  their  father  was  much  more  to  them 
than  a  father  usually  is. 

The  horses  seemed  to  know  that  they  were  going  home.  They  pricked  up 
their  ears  and  jogged  willingly  along,  neighing  shrilly,  now  and  then,  as  they 
saw  other  horses  in  the  distance. 

At  one  farmer's  home  our  friends  stopped  awhile  to  watch  a  windmill  grind 
apples  for  cider.  The  apples  were  scarcely  ripe,  but  the  cider  was  sweet  and 
very  refreshing.  A  little  bright-eyed  girl  brought  them  a  pitcherful  of  the  pure 
juice  and  a  tumbler  to  drink  it  from. 

"  You  can  drink  all  you  want  to,  for  it  is  not  fermented  and  can  not  intoxicate 
you,"  she  said,  smiling  untU  her  berry-brown  cheeks  were  all  full  of  dimples. 

A  big  vellow  dog  came  out  and  tried  to  get  up  a  quarrel  with  Belt  and  Don, 
but  the  good-natured  bird-dogs  refused  to  be  offended  or  show  any  ill-breeding. 

The  highwav  was  soon  reached;  but  the  recent  rain  had  laid  the  dust,  so  that 
It  was  pleasant  to  go  along  between  the  hedges  in  the  long  straight  lanes,  with 
fields  of  corn  or  grass  on  either  hand  and  a  cloudless  sky  overhead.  Beautiful 
dusky  green  woods  appeared  in  the  distance,  and  before  long  they  were  again 


MARVIN  AND   HIS  BOY  HLN'TERS.  45 

in  the  timbered  eountry.  The  bluebirds  and  red-headed  w«)odi)eekers  and  pewee 
fly-catchers  flew  ahead  of  them  from  stake  to  stake  of  the  worm-fences  wliidi 
now  bounded  the  lanes.  Crows  flew  overhead  cawiiij,'  luii-sldy,  and  tlic  ficld- 
s])arrows  sang  in  the  timothy-stul)ble. 

Till"  l)oys' hearts  jumped  when  at  last  the  cliui-cli  sjiircs  and  painted  i-oofs  of 
the  home  village  came  in  sight. 

As  they  drove  up  to  the  front  gate  of  their  home,  Mr.  Burton  saw  Ihcm  from 
his  library  window,  and  came  limping  down  the  carriage-way  to  meet  thcin, 

''Why,  you  are  almost  as  black  as  little  Hottentots!"  he  exclaimed,  lookin^^ 
at  their  sunbrowned  faces. 

'■'■  But  we  've  had  a  glorious  time,"  said  Hugli.  "  I  never  did  enjoy  anytliiiig 
so  much.  And,  Papa,  we  wish  to  go  home  with  Uncle  Charley,  and  liunt  in  the 
South  this  winter,  and  he  's  going  to  buy  us  guns  and  everything, —  are  n't  you, 
Uncle  Charley  f " 

'■'■  I  should  think,  from  your  looks,  that  you  have  had  hunting  eiiougli  for  one 
season,  at  least,"  said  Mr.  Burton.  "  Have  they  l)een  reasonably  good  bovs, 
Charles?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  '•  they  hav(i  behaved  in  a  very  creditable  way. 
I  am  proud  of  them." 

Weeks  passed  before  Neil  and  Hugh  were  tired  of  recounting  to  their  young- 
friends  in  Belair  their  many  ])leasing  and  their  few  thrilling  adventures  on  the 
great  prairie. 

Neil  fully  believed  that  they  would  go  South  with  Uncle  Charley  and  3Ir. 
Marv-in,  and,  with  his  usual  foresight  and  philosophical  prudence,  sent  for  a 
book  on  wing-shooting,  and  fell  to  studying  it  carefully.  He  also  renewed  his 
readings  in  natural  history.  But  Hugh  was  so  full  of  fun  and  so  restless, 
that  he  avoided  any  close  application  to  study. 

"  I  am  resolved,"  said  Neil,  "  to  know  all  I  can  abont  the  haunts  and  halnts  of 
game,  as  well  as  about  the  best  methods  of  hunting  and  shooting.  Whatever 
is  worth  knowing  and  doing  is  worth  knowing  and  doing  well." 

He  also  took  an  old  blunderbuss  out  of  the  garret,  and,  althougli  it  had  no 
lock,  he  used  it  to  practice  aiming.  This  exercise  accustomed  his  hands,  arms, 
and  eyes  to  work  in  concert,  a  thing  of  prime  importance  in  wing-shooting. 

Uncle  Charley  observed  Neil's  close  application  to  the  study  of  the  matter  in 
hand,  but  he  said  nothing.  He  knew  that  it  meant  success.  He  had  arranged 
wdth  Mr.  Burton  for  the  boys  to  go  South  with  him,  and  had  sent  for  their  guns, 
which  were  to  be  made  to  order.  He  had  also  agreed  to  pay  Mr.  Marvin  a  sum 
of  money  sufficient  to  compensate  him  for  the  loss  of  the  autumn  shooting  on 
the  Kankakee,  in  order  that  he  might  go  South  early  enough  to  make  everything 
ready  for  a  whole  winter  in  the  field. 

Mr.  Marvin  came  to  Belair  on  the  same  day  that  the  boys'  new  guns  arrivinl 
by  express    from   New  York.     The   guns   were  indeed   beauties,  just  alike, 


46 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


■«-- 


Getting  ready  for  a  winter  in  the  field. 

weighing  six  and  a  half  pounds  each,  sixteen-bore,  Damascus  barrels,  with  low 
hammers  and  pistol-grip  stocks;  in  fact,  the  very  finest  little  guns  that  the 
manufacturers  covild  make. 

''You're  patriotic  boys,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  after  examining  the  weapons; 
"  you  go  in  for  American  guns,  do  you?" 

"  I  think  our  American  work  is  quite  equal  to  that  of  the  English  now,"  said 
Uncle  Charley,  "  and  these  guns  are  recommended  as  very  close,  hard  shooters." 

"  So  they  are,  and  cheap.  An  English  gun  of  their  grade  would  have  cost  at 
least  three  hundred  dollars." 

"  Are  n't  they  beauties,  thought"  cried  Hugh,  dancing  around  with  his  gun  in 
his  hand.  "I  'm  going  to  name  mine  'Falcon,'  because  it  will  be  such  a  bird- 
destroyer  !     What  shall  you  name  yours,  Neil  ? " 

"Mine  shall  be  anonvmous,"  said  Neil, '' but  it  will  do  good   work,  all   the 


"  When  shall  we   stai-t   to  go  South,  Uncle  Charley .' "  (pieried    the   always 
impatient  Hugh. 

"  Some  time  next  week,  i)erhaps,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  arc  you  in  a  hurry  ? " 


iMARVIX  AXD   HIS  BOY  HUNTERS. 


47 


"  Yes,  indeed  ! "  exclaimed  Hugh,  "  I  want  to  l)e  off  just  as  soon  as  possible  !  " 

"  The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  target  those  new  guns,"  said  Mr.  Marvin. 

''What  is  targeting  a  gun  f "  inquired  Hugli. 

"I'll  show  you,"  said  Mr.  Marvin.  He  took  some  white  sheets  of  printei-'s 
paper,  large  enough  to  hold  a  circle  thirty  inches  in  diameter  drawn  Avith  a 
pencil.     In  the  center  of  the  circle  he  made  a  small  black  spot. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "  we  shall  see  what  kind  of  pattern  the  guns  will  niakf.  It 
they  are  good  or  bad,  we  shaU  soon  know  it." 

They  took  a  dozen  or  so  of  these  paper  targets  and  went  beyond  the  town 
limits,' where  they  placed  them  one  at  a  time  against  the  side  of  an  old  disused 
barn.  Each  barrel  of  the  two  guns  was  fired  at  a  separate  target,  at  the 
distance  of  forty  yards,  with  shells  loaded  with  three  drams  of  i)0wder  and  one 
ounce  of  number  eight  shot. 

"These  are  most  excellent  guns,"  was  Mr.  Marvin's  decision,  after  giving 
them  a  careful  test.  "  See  how  evenly  and  how  closely  together  they  distribute 
their  shot  with  the  left  barrels,  and  how  nicely  the  right  barrels  scatter  the  shot 
a  little  wider.     Yes,  young  gentlemen,  you  have  first-class  g-uns." 

"  But  why  are  the  right  barrels  made  to  scatter  wider  ? "  inquired  Hugh. 

"  Because  you  shoot  that  barrel  first  and  usually  at  short  range,  while  you 
keep  your  left  barrel  for  the  second  shot,  which  is  nearly  always  at  long  range," 
replied  Mr.  Marvin. 

Neil  had  found  this  out  long  ago  from  his  reading. 

All  the  boys  in  Belair  soon  discovered  that  Neil  and  Hugh  had  fine  guns,  and 
this  fact  was  the  subject  of  lively  conversation  among  them.  And  when  the 
news  of  the  proposed  Houthern  trip  leaked  out  our  young  friends  were  the 
heroes  of  the  village. 

Neil  and  Hugh  had  to  answer  hundreds  of  questions,  and  tell  their  plans  over 
and  over  again  to  their  less  fortunate  playmates. 

And  so  at  length  the  eagerly  expected  time  arrived. 


48 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


X. 


AWAY   T(^    THE    SOUTH  ! 


WHEN  the  time  came  for  the  departure  for  the  South,  and  everythiug  had 
been  packed  and  sent  to  the  railway  station,  Mr.  Burton  gave  his  boys 
over  into  the  care  of  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin.  His  last  words  to  Neil 
and  Hugh  were : 

''  Be  good  boys  ;  and  do  be  careful  how  you  handle  your  guns." 

Quite  a  number  of  the  playmates  and  school-fellows  of  Neil  and  Hugh 
gathered  at  the  station  to  see  them  off.  The  boys  promised  to  send  them 
specimens  of  birds,  alligators'  teeth,  and  other  trophies  of  their  prowess. 

"  Good-bye,  Neil,"  cried  George  Roberts,  just  as  the  engine  whistled  to  start ; 
''think  of  me  every  time  you  bang  away  at  anything ;  try  and  get  enough  fun 
for  both  of  us." 

''All  riglit,"  replied  Neil,  and  then  the  train  began  to  move. 

All  tlie  l)oys  took  off  their  hats  and  cheered  lustily. 

Neil  and  TTugli  waved  their  handkereliiefs  as  long  as  they  couUl  see  tlie 
station. 

They  had  seats  in  a  palace  sleeping-car  which  would  go  througli  to  Nashville, 
Tennessee.  This  gave  them  a  fine  opportunity  to  see  the  country  through  which 


MARVIN  AND   HIS  BOY  JfrNTEBS. 


49 


they  went,  and,  altliou<i:h  tliey  had  been  hunt- 
ing on  the  prairie,  they  had  never  imagined 
the  beauty  and  vastness  of  that  great  grassy 
plain  until  the  swift  train  had  borne  them 
across  it.  Just  before  they  reached  the  Ohio 
river  they  ran  among  timbered  hills  and 
across  deep,  dark  ravines  where  rank  ferns 
and  masses  of  wild  vines  grew  in  the  shade 
of  large  oak  and  tulip  trees. 

They  crossed  the  bridge  that  spans  the 
beautiful  Ohio  river  at  Louisville  and  were 
soon  winding  about  among  the  dusky  hills 
and  across  the  fertile  valleys  of  Kentucky. 
They  slept  all  night,  and  when  they  awoke 
next  morning  they  were  in  Nashville,  Tennes- 
see. Here  they  changed  cars,  and,  as  they  had 
two  hours  to  wait,  they  strolled  around  to 
look  at  the  sights.  They  climbed  up  the  hill  to  the  beautiful  marble  State- 
house,  from  whose  upper  window  they  had  a  fine  view  of  the  city,  sj^read  out 

over  its   picturesque  lime-stone  hills. 
Next  they  went  to  see  the  high  suspen- 
sion bridge  over  the  Cumberland  river. 
It    was    night    when    they   at    last 
reached  Uncle  Charley's  house,  a  large 
building,  set  back  some  distance  from 
a  broad  country  road  in  the  midst  of 
a   grove   of  great  cedar  trees.     In 
fact,  the  place  was  known  as  ''The 
Cedars,"  and  the  farm  was  one  of 
the  largest  and  best  in  East  Ten- 
nessee.    A  pleasant  airy  room,  in 
which   was   a  high,  old-fashioned 
bedstead,  was  given  to  the 
boys  as  their  own.  A  bright 
fire   was    burning   on    the 
hearth  of  a  broad-mouthed 
fire-place,  and  an  old  col- 
ored woman,  named  Rhoda, 
came  to  Avait  upon  them. 

Next  morning  before 
breakfast  Uncle  Charley 
called    them    up    to    show 


50 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


them  his  kennels  and  stables.  He  had  a  great  number  of  fine  dogs  and  horses,  of 
which  he  was  ^•ery  proud.  Then  he  showed  them  his  fat  cattle  and  his  Cotswold 
sheep  and  his  drove  of  young  mules.  It  was  quite  plain  that  Uncle  Charley  was 
a  thrifty  and  energetic  farmer.  His  house  was  on  a  hill,  from  which  one  could 
see  all  over  the  broad  rolling  farm,  of  nearly  a  thousand  acres  of  rich  brown 
land,  fenced  with  cedar  rails  and  under  a  high  state  of  cultivation. 

'*  You  see  I  don't  hunt  all  the  time,"  said  Uncle  Charley.  "  I  have  this  big 
farm  to  oversee  and  take  care  of." 

'*  I  should  think  it  would  be  a  very  delightful  business  to  take  care  of  such  a 
beautiful  farm,"  said  Neil,  looking  about  on  the  clean  fields  and  well-kept  flocks 
and  herds. 

''  I  like  it  very  much,"  said  Uncle  Charley.  ''  It  pleases  me  to  see  my  crops 
of  corn  and  wheat  grow  and  ripen  and  my  cattle  get  fat  and  sleek.  After  I  have 
worked  hard  and  have  been  successful,  then  I  can  take  my  gun  and  go  off  for  a 
long  hunt,  feeling  that  I  have  earned  the  right  to  enjoy  it." 

Uncle  Charley  had  a  coal-black  negro  servant,  a  boy  about  NeiFs  size,  called 
Judge,  who  soon  became  acquainted  with  the  boys.  He  was  a  bright  fellow, 
whose  mind  was  stored  with  all  the  queer  notions  peculiar  to  Southei-n  negroes. 

He  at  once  formed  a  great  liking  for  Hugh, 
whose  enthusiastic  temperament  captivated 
him.  The  two  began  to  associate  together  a 
great  deal,  the  negro  taking  Hugh  all  over  the 
farm  and  pointing  out  many  jjlaces  of  ciu'ious 
interest — the  cotton-gin,  no  longer  in  use;  the 
little  corn-mill,  with  its  big  over-shot  wheel, 
beside  a  brook ;  the  mill-pond,  where  in  sum- 
mer Judge  went  in  SAvimming;  the  vast  peach- 
orchards,  and  many  farm  implements  quite 
different  from  those  which  Hugh  had  been 
accustomed  to  see  in  the  barns  of  farmers  at 
the  North. 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  took  time 
to  carefully  arrange  their  plans  and  to  collect  their  supplies  for  the  winter. 
It  was  agreed  that  their  first  hunting  should  be  done  in  North  Georgia,  where 
quail  were  plentiful  and  the  facility  for  shipping  the  game  to  a  good  market  was 
all  that  could  be  desired  by  Mr.  Marvin. 

There  is  one  kind  of  shooting  allowed  in  the  Southern  States  which  is  strictly 
forl)iddt'n  in  most  Northern  and  Western  States,  namely,  dove-shooting.  Doves 
are  great  pests  to  the  Soutliern  farmer.  In  autumn  they  collect  in  immense  flocks, 
and  sometimes  utterly  destroy  whole  fields  of  peas ;  so  that  the  saying  "  Innocent 
as  a  dove  "is  not  of  mudi  force  there,  and  the  birds  are  often  killed  in  large 
numbers  and  sent  to  maikct,  mostly  by  negro  hunters  and  trappers. 


•Iud<;e. 


3fAI{VIX  AM)    JUS  BOY   Ill'NTERS. 


51 


^i^^ 


?^' 


Neil  and  Hugh  were  extremely  anxious  to  try  their  new  guns,  and  it  ehanoed 
that  one  day  a  grand  flight  of  doves  settled  in  one  of  Unele  Charley's  pea-fields. 
This  was  a  good  excuse  for  the  boys. 
They  seized  their  weapons  and  were  off 
in  a  surprisingly  sliort  space  of  time. 
Even  Judge  brought  forth  a  gun,  and 
such  a  gnu  as  it  was !  A  short,  clumsy, 
big-bored  affair,  with  only  one  barrel  and 
a  flint-lock. 

''  I  think  I  VI  l)etter  go  with  the  boys," 
said  Mr.  Marvin,  getting  out  his  smaller 
gun  I  '^  they  '11  need  some  watching  and 
dh-ecting.''  And  it  turned  out  that  they 
did  need  very  close  watching;  for  Hugh 
and  Judge  went  wild  as  soon  as  they  got 
among  the  doves,  banging  away  in  every 

direction,  and  apparently  not  much  caring  who  or  what  was  within  range.  Neil 
and  Mr.  Marvin  had  to  be  very  careful  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  danger. 
Much  to  every  one's  surprise.  Judge  killed  a  greater  number  of  birds  than 
either  Neil  or  Hugh.    He  used  his  old  flint-lock  with  real  expertness. 

Hugh  here  had  quite  an  adventure.    He  killed  a  dove,  which  fell  over  in  a  little 
field  w^here  Uncle  Charley  kept  a  fine  English  bull.     The  fence  was  a  very 
high  one,  but  Hugh  climbed  over  it  and  ran  to  get  his  game.    The  bull,  think- 
ing he  had  come  to  give  it  some  salt,  ran  toward  Hugh,  bellowing  loudly. 
The  boy  cast  one  wild,  horrified  glance  at  the  wrinkled  face  and  sharp  horns 

of  the  huge  animal,  and  then  flung  down  his 
gun  and  ran  back  to  the  fence,  screaming  at 
every  jump.     The  bidl  followed  briskly,  bel- 
lowing brokenly,  until  it  came  to  where 
Hugh'^  gun  Li\  ;  then  it  stopped  and 
began  to  bellow  and  to  jmw  the  earth 
A\itli  one  ot  itb  tore  teet. 


^>s' 


'^y^^^Jt^^j^^. 


A  grand  flij^bt  of  doves. 


52  BOY::!'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

Hugh  climbed  over  the  fence  aud  stood  peepiug  through  a  crack,  trembling 
and  jjantiug.  The  bull  was  striking  the  gun  with  its  foot  and  knocking  it 
about  as  if  it  were  a  straw.  Mr.  Marvin,  hearing  the  boy's  wild  screams,  ran 
to  the  spot  as  quickly  as  he  could,  but  Judge  outran  him  aud  reached  Hugh 
just  in  time  to  see  the  bull  break  the  stock  of  the  gun  short  off  at  the  pistol- 


%t 


,♦/-    f 


"  Hugh  iiung  down  his  jsnin  and  ran  hack  to  the  fence." 

gri}).  Judge  did  not  stop  at  the  fence,  but  scrambled  over  it,  and,  rushing 
np,  drove  the  bull  away  and  picked  up  the  shattered  weapon,  which  he  In-ought 
back  to  where  Hugh  and  Mr.  Marvin  stood. 

"  Dat  's  a  mighty  much  ob  a  pity,  Mahs'  Hugh,"  said  the  negro,  rolling  his  big 
white  eyes  commiseratingly,  "  What  yo'  gwine  to  do  Miont  dis  purty  gun, 
now  ? " 

Hugh  could  not  speak.  His  voice  stuck  in  his  throat,  and  his  lii)S  wore  purjilc 
with  excitement  and  distress. 

Mr.  Marvin  looked  very  much  disappointed.  He  took  the  mutilated  gun  in  his 
hands  and  examined  it  in  silence.     Neil  came  np  and  joined  the  solemn  group. 

"Why,  what 's  the  trouble  ?"  he  inijuired. 

''  De  bull 's  smashed  de  young  boss's  new  gun  all  to  bits,"  said  Judge.  "  He 
was  just  a-pawin'  it  an'  a-pawin'  it  when  I  got  lieah.  ^lalis'  ITugli  's  de  'fraidest 
boy  I  ebber  see,  an'  dat 's  a  fac' ! " 


.l/.iy,'l7.V  Ay  J)    Ills  BOY   HUNTERS. 


53 


"Well,  the  hai-ni  's  done/'  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "and  it  can't  l.e  h.-lped  now." 

They  formed  a  doleful  procession  as  they  trudged  homeward  in  silence  across 
the  fields.  Hugh  felt  that  all  his  dreams  of  sport  were  at  an  end.  He  looked  at 
Neil's  bright,  clean  gun,  and  then  atlas  own  battered  and  broken  weai)on.  The 
tears  would  force  their  way  out  of  his  eyes  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do, 

"  I  suppose  it  is  n't  right  to  kill  doves,"  lie  said,  at  last,  regretfully. 

"  It  is  n't  right  to  fling  down  a  fine  gun  and  run  away  every  time  you  hear  a 
bull  bellow!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Marvin,  rather  gruffly.  "  I  slxmld  like  to  know 
what  you  'd  do  if  you  should  see  a  bear  or  an  alligator  ! " 

"  Dat  chile  'ud  jes'  break  his  neck  a-runnin',"  said  Judge. 

"  I  hate  to  have  Uncle  Charley  know  I  have  broken  my  gun,"  muttei-ed  Hugh. 

"  De  bull  broke  dat  gun ;  you  did  n't  break  it,"  said  Judge. 

''  I  think  it  can  be  mended,"  renuxrked  Neil.  "A  gunsmith  could  put  a  piece 
of  silver  around  the  broken  place  and  fasten  it  so  that  it  would  be  nearly  as  nice 
as  before." 

''  Oh,  do  you  think  so  ? "  cried  Hugh.  "  Oh,  but  I  do  hope  it  can  be  done  !  I 
will  never  be  careless  again  if  I  can  have  my  gun  all  right  once  more." 

Uncle  Charley  was  surprised,  but  he  spoke  kindly  to  Hugh,  and  said  he  Avould 
see  what  could  be  done.  Next  day  he  took  the  gun  away  to  a  neighboring  town 
and  left  it  with  a  gunsmith  to  be  mended.  When  it  was  brought  back,  the 
silver  splice  had  engraved  upon  it  the  following  words: 

'■'■Always  keep  cool.''^ 

The  work  had  been  very  neatly  done,  and  the  weapon  was  really  quite  as 
good  and  as  handsome  as  it  had  been  before  it  was  broken. 

Hugh's  spirits  immediately  revived,  and  he  was  just  as  happy  as  ever. 


54  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


XI. 

AROl'ND   A   CAMP-FIRE. 

IT  was  on  a  l)eautif ul  November  day,  almost  as  warm  as  in  September,  that 
our  friends  started  from  Uncle  Charley's  house  to  make  an  excursion  into 
North  Georg:ia  to  shoot  quail  and  wild  turkeys,  or  whatever  other  seasonable 
game  could  be  found.  A  big  Tennessee  wagon,  covered  with  a  roofing  of  white 
cotton  cloth,  and  drawn  by  two  strong  mules,  was  to  be  the  pack  vehicle.  It 
was  driven  and  managed  by  an  old  colored  man  named  Samson,  Avhose  hair  and 
beard  were  like  white  wool.  A  long-bodied  hack,  or  road-wagon,  with  three 
seats  in  it,  and  covered  with  oil-cloth,  had  been  fitted  up  for  the  hunters  to  ride 
in.  Judge  was  to  drive  this  equipage,  which  was  drawn  by  two  of  Uncle 
Charley's  beautiful  work-horses.  The  dogs  were  to  go  in  the  big  wagon  with 
Samson  and  the  stores. 

The  mountain  region  of  East  Tennessee  and  North  Georgia  is  one  of  the  most 
charming  countries  in  the  world.  The  valleys  are  warm  and  fertile,  lying 
between  high  ranges  of  blue  mountain-peaks  and  green  foot-hills  covered  with 
groves  of  pines  and  cedars,  oaks  and  hickory  trees.  The  air  is  pure  and 
healthful  and  the  water  is  the  best  that  cold  mountain  springs  can  afford.  Vast 
tracts  of  this  region  are  so  broken  up  with  ravines,  abrupt  hills,  and  rugged 
cliffs  of  rock,  that  they  are  not  fit  for  agriculture,  and  consequently  are  not 
inhabited,  save  by  hardy  hunters,  trappers,  or  nut-gatherers.  Here  and  there, 
in  the  wildest  parts  of  the  mountain  ranges,  are  found  what  are  called  ''pockets''; 
these  are  small  valleys,  or  dells,  walled  in  by  the  cliffs,  and  are  usually  garden- 
spots  of  fertility,  where  are  found  families  of  settlers  who  live  peaceful,  quiet 
lives,  entirely  shut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 

The  first  day  after  leaving  Uncle  Charley's  farm,  our  friends  traveled  al)out 
forty  miles,  reaching  the  foot-hills  of  a  range  of  mountains  close  to  the  northern 
line  of  Georgia.  They  had  crossed  some  large  streams  and  passed  over  some 
outlying  spurs  of  another  mountain  range,  and  were  now  ready  to  begin  tlie 
ascent  of  the  lofty  ])ile  before  them. 

They  pitched  their  tents  beside  a  clear  spring  just  as  darkness  began  to  gather 
in  the  woods.  On  one  side  of  them  rose  a  steep  escarpment  of  broken  cliffs; 
in  every  other  direction  a  dense  forest  of  junes,  undergrown  witli  buslu's  and 
vines  of  various  sorts,  stretched  away  gloomy  and  silent. 

Judge  built  a  fire  while  Samson  was  feeding  the  animals,  and  then  the  two 
went  to  work  to  get  supper.     They  broiled  slices  of  ham  and  baked  a  hoe-cake, 


3rAJiVJX  AM)    HIS  BOY  lirXTERS. 


55 


made  a  pot  of  coffee,  and  roasted  some  potatoes  and  apples.  The  flarinji:  yellow 
flaraes  from  the  pine-knots  that  Judge  had  put  <»n  the  fire  threw  a  wnvei-inii- 
light  far  out  among  the  dusky  trees,  and  the  Hlaek  .smoke  i-ollcd  li^litly  u]) 
among  the  overhanging  boughs. 

They  all  were  very  hungry.  There  is  nothing  like  tlx'  iiKnnitiiiii  aii-  to  whet 
one's  appetite.  Any  food  seems  to  taste  much  better  out  in  tlic  woods  than  it 
does  at  home. 

^'I  should  think  there  might  be  l)ears  in  these  mountains,"  said  Hugh,  as  he 
leisurely  sipped  his  coffee,  "  and  deer,  too." 

'^  There  are  some  deer,  and  there  may  be  a  few  black  bears,"  said  Unele 
Charley,  '^  but  they  are  too  scarce  and  shy  to  be  hunted  with  profit.  AN'ild  cats 
are  plentiful,  however,  in  all  this  region." 

''  I  should  like  to  see  a  wild  cat,"  said  Hugh,     ''  What  does  it  look  like?" 
''  Very  like  a  common  gray  house-cat,  only  two  or  three  times  as  large,  and  it 
has  a  larger  head  in  proportion  to  its  body  and  a  short  tail.     It  is  a  savage 

creature  and  very  dangerous  at  times.  The 
claws  and  teeth  are  long  and  sharp,  and  it  is 
very  muscular  and  powerful." 

"  Do  wild  cats  ever  attack  people  f "  inquired 
Hugh,  helj)ing  himself  to  another  roasted 
apple. 

*'  I  have  heard  of  such  a  thing,"  said  Uncle 
Charley,  '*  and  I  should  n't  care  to  meet  one  at 
close  (piarters,  especially  if  it  were  wounded." 

"  I  want  to  hunt  something  dangerous  and 
have  some  adventures  wortli  talking  about," 
said  Hugh. 

<<  Why,  yoiu'  bull  adventure  was  stirring  and 
dangerous  enough,  was  n't  it?"  growled  ]Mr. 
Marvin  over  his  plate  of  ham. 
''  That  bull  looked  dangerous,  anyway ;  and,  besides,  if  I  'd  stoinl  still  and 
it  had  gored  me,  you  would  have  said  I  was  foolish  for  not  running." 

'*  Yes,  but  you  threw  down  your  gun  ;  that  was  what  I  blamed  you  for,"  said 
Mr.  Marvin.  "It's  a  rule  among  good  soldiers  never  to  drop  their  guns.  A 
hunter  should  follow  the  same  rule." 

When  supper  was  over,  they  all  sat  in  a  circle  around  the  fire  listening  to  hunt- 
ing-stories by  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin.  Even  old  Samson  crept  \\\)  near 
enough  to  hear,  while  he  smoked  his  cob  pipe  with  great  show  of  satisfaction. 

Mr.  Marvin's  best  story  was  about  a  panther-hunt  in  a  jungle  of  the  Florida 
everglades.  He  was  describing  how,  in  the  course  of  the  hunt,  he  chanced  to 
come  suddenly  face  to  face  with  the  panther,  which  was  crouching  on  a  mass 
of  boughs  and  vines  about  ten  feet  above  the  ground. 


Old  Samson. 


56  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

"  I  was  carrying  a  double-barreled  gun/'  lie  said,  "  of  which  one  barrel  was  a 
rifle,  the  other  for  shot.  I  saw  the  savage  beast  just  as  it  was  making  ready  to 
spring  upon  nie.  I  l)elieve  I-  felt  very  much  like  doing  as  Hugli  did  when  the 
bull  came  bellowing  toward  him  ;  Ijut  the  trouble  in  my  case  Avas  that  I  coiilil 
not  run.  I  was  hemmed  in  by  strong  bushes  and  vines.  So  I  summoned  all 
my  uerve  power  and  raised  my  gun  to  take  aim.  Just  as  I  did  so  the  panther 
leaped  straight  toward  me." 

At  this  point  in  Mr.  Marvin's  narration,  and  as  if  to  sharply  emphasize  the 
climax,  there  came  from  the  woods  right  behind  Hugh  a  wild  shriek  altogether 
startling  in  its  loudness  and  harshness.  Hugh  sprang  to  his  feet  and  leaped 
clear  over  the  fire. 

"  Ugh  !  O-oli !  what  was  that  f "  he  cried,  his  eyes  seeming  to  start  almost  out 
of  his  head. 

Old  Samson  laughed  aloud  and  said :  "  Bress  yo',  ehile,  dat  nuffin'  but  an  ole 
owl ;  he  's  not  gwine  ter  hurt  ye  ! " 

'•'  I  think  we  '11  have  to  send  you  home,  Hugh,"  said  Uncle  Charley  ;  ''  you  '11 
never  do  for  one  of  our  party  if  you  keep  on  in  this  way." 

Hugh  crept  back  to  his  place,  and  Mr.  Marvin  resumed  his  story  : 

''  I  fired  both  barrels  point-blank  at  that  brute  as  it  sailed  through  the  air. 
aud  at  the  same  moment  I  dropped  flat  upon  the  ground,  thinking  that  the  pan- 
ther would  go  beyond  me  before  it  struck.  But  I  reckoned  wrongly ;  it  came 
right  down  upon  me,  almost  crushing  me.  My  legs  were  tangled  in  some 
briery  vines  and  my  right  arm  was  doubled  under  me.  The  panther  struggled 
terribly,  tearing  the  ground  Avith  its  feet  on  each  side  of  me,  uttering  at  the 
same  time  a  sort  of  gurgling  growl.  It  was  very  heavy,  and  my  position  made 
its  weight  seem  double  what  it  really  was.  I  tried  to  throw  it  off,  but  my 
strength  was  not  sufficient.  With  another  hard  struggle  it  died  there,  lying 
across  my  back.  If  my  legs  had  not  been  so  badly  tangled  I  could  have 
got  out  from  under  the  dead  brute.  As  it  was,  I  could  do  nothing  but  lie  there 
aud  halloo.  It  was  not  the  weight  so  much  as  my  cramped  and  tangled  situation 
that  held  me  down.  To  add  to  the  terror  of  my  predicament  I  heard  the 
panthei-'s  mate  scream  in  the  jungle  close  by.  My  hunting  companions  were 
beating  about  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood,  but  I  could  not  hear  them.  I 
screamed  like  a  steam-whistle,  but  no  answer  came.  It  was  then  that  I  suddenly 
realized  the  awful  possibilities  of  my  situation.  If  my  companions  were  out  of 
hearing,  how  could  I  ever  get  help  ?  As  I  lay  there,  I  could  see  for  some  distance 
along  an  opening  in  the  undergrowth  to  where  a  big  cypress  tree  grew  at  the 
edge  of  a  little  pond.  The  other  panther  leaped  a  few  feet  up  the  bole  of  this 
tree  aud  screanu'd  again.  That  was  to  me  the  most  terrific  sound  I  ever  heard. 
Just  then  it  struck  me  that  I  must  go  systematically  to  work  to  free  myself.  I 
lay  (juite  still  for  a  time,  thinking.  Then  I  began  working  my  feet  out  of  the 
tangle  of  vines.     It  was  hard  work,  but  I  persevered  aud  finally  succeeded. 


58  JBOy.S"'  BOOK   OF  isroHTs. 

Then  by  a  strong:  effort  I  freed  my  right  arm,  and,  turning  myself  a  little,  I 
rolled  the  panther  off  me.  The  next  thing  I  did  was  to  load  both  barrels  of  my 
gun,  for  I  could  now  hear  the  other  sav^age  beast  growling  close  by  in  the 
jungle.  Fear  made  me  alert  and  steady.  Soon  I  saw  a  pair  of  eyes  glaring  at 
me  not  more  than  two  rods  away.  I  took  deliberate  aim  and  fii-ed  both  barrels, 
sending  a  ball  and  nine  large  buckshot  to  the  spot  between  those  eyes.  That 
was  a  great  adventure  for  me.  I  never  have  known  another  man  who  has  killed 
two  full-grown  panthers  on  the  same  day.  My  companions  had  heard  my  firing, 
and  came  to  me.  There  lay  my  two  royal  en.emies  dead  within  a  few  feet  of 
each  other  and  each  shot  in  the  face.  But  from  that  day  to  this  I  never  liave 
had  the  slightest  desire  to  hunt  panthers." 

"  Yo'  not  gwine  ketch  dis  darky  a-fooliu'  wid  deni  painters,"  said  Samson ;  "  I 
jes'  gwine  keep  my  ole  carkige  onten  dar  way.  If  dey  wants  me  fur  meat, 
dey  's  got  ter  cotch  me  fust  — dey  has,  fur  a  fac' !  " 

*'  If  ye  starts  to  run  f'om  'em,  ye  done  gone  \\\)  right  den,"  remarked  Judge, 
"for  dey  ketch  ye  sho'.     Dem  painters  kin  run  like  lightnin'." 

"  Like  to  know  wha'  you  learn  so  much  'bout  dem  beastes,"  said  Samson  con- 
temptuously ;  "  you  neber  been  nowha'  nur  no  place  in  yo'  life.  Bet  yo'  turn 
dem  eyes  wrong  side  out  'ards  ef  yo'  see  a  painter  wid  'em !  " 

"  Doan  ye  fret  yo'self,  Uncle  Samson,"  said  Judge,  "  when  de  painter  come 
I  '11  be  dar,  an'  he  '11  git  a  dose  he  doan  want — shoot  'em,  sho'  's  ye  born  ! " 

"  Yah,  yah,  yah ! "  laughed  Samson,  as  he  began  refilling  his  pipe  from  a 
twist  of  tobacco,  ''yah,  yah,  yah!  you  gwHne  to  shoot  painters,  is  ye  !  yah,  yah, 
yah  !  you  woulden'  make  more'n  one  good  mouf-full  for  a  good-sized  painter — 
you  woulden'." 

It  was  now  time  to  go  to  bed,  so  Uncle  Charley  ordered  Samson  and  Judge  to 
their  wagon  in  which  they  were  to  sleep. 

Mr.  Marvin  rolled  himself  in  his  blankets  and  lay  down  by  the  fire,  a  way  of 
resting  he  preferred  to  being  cramped  in  a  tent,  especially  when  the  weather 
was  so  drj\ 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  the  moon  came  up  in  the  east,  filling  the  woods  with 
a  pale  light  that  flickered  on  the  gray  mountain  cliffs  like  a  silver  mist.  The 
big  horned  owl  that  had  so  scared  Hugh  came  and  perched  itself  upon  the  top 
of  a  dead  jjine  near  the  camp,  giving  forth  now  and  then  its  j)eculiar,  wild  cry. 
As  it  sat  upon  the  highest  spire  of  the  tree,  it  looked  double  its  real  size,  out- 
lined against  the  clear  gray  sky.  It  would  turn  its  large  head  from  side  to  side, 
as  if  keei)ing  a  vigilant  outlook  for  danger. 

Hugli  aw(.'ke  froni  a  sweet  sleep  and  heard  the  owl.  He  clianei'd  to  renienil)er 
that  his  father  had  long  wanted  a  stuffed  owl  for  liis  li1)rary.  Why  would  n't  it 
be  just  as  well  to  get  this  one  for  him  ? 

Very  slyly  and  (juietly  Hugh  arose  and  put  on  his  cl()thes.  Slipping  his  gun 
from  its  case  and  loading  it  with  heavy-shotted  cartridges,  he  stole  noiselessly 


3IAIiVlX  AN  J)   JUS    HOY   lU'NTERS. 


59 


out  of  the  tent.     Every  cue   else  was   sleepiuf,^ 

lOveii  Samson's  big  yellow  'coon  doii',  that  lay  under 

the  wagon,  did  not  seem  to  awake. 

Hugh  crouched  and  crept  along  under  cover  of  a 

small  cedar  ])usli  until  he  got  within  long  range  of  the 

owl ;  then,  taking  aim  as  best  he  could,  he  fired. 

What  a  noise  that  gun  did  make  in  the  still  forest ! 
The  report  went  bellowing  off  in  the  distance,  and  then, 
flung  back  by  some  echo-making  cliff  or  hollow,  re- 
turned   with    mellow,    fragmentary    rattling.     The 
dogs  began  to  bark,  the  horses  and  mules  snorted, 
old  Samson  leaped  out  of  his  wagon,  Mr.  Mar- 
vin sprang  from   his  sound   sleep  beside  the 
embers  of   the  fire.     In  fact,  there  was   a  gen- 
eral alarm  in  the  camp. 


XII. 


OVER   THE   MOUNTAIN. 


TTTHEN  Hugh  fired,  the  owl  came  tumbling  down  from  its  lofty  perch, 
T  V  flapping  its  wings  as  it  fell.  That  was  a  good  shot,  and  Hugh  felt  a 
thrill  of  gratification  and  pride  as  he  saw  the  effect  of  it.  He  ran  to  the  spot 
where  the  great  bird  lay,  and  hastily  picked  it  up.  Immediately  he  screamed 
with  pain  and  tried  to  drop  it ;  but  it  had  seized  his  hand  with  its  beak  and 
talons  and  would  not  let  go.  "  0  !  O  !  0  !"  he  cried,  ''  it 's  killing  me  !  it 's  kill- 
ing me  !  O  Uncle  Charley  !  Mr.  Marvin  !  come  here,  quick  ! " 

The  owl  was  not  much  hurt,  the  tip  of  one  wing  having  been  T)i-oken.  Its 
strong  hooked  beak  and  its  long  talons  were  piercing  Hugli's  hand  cruelly. 
The  pain  was  almost  unbearable. 

Mr.  Marvin  seized  his  gun  and  ran  to  the  spot,  expecting  to  find  a  bear  or 
a  catamount  tearing  Hugh  to  pieces.  Uncle  Charley,  Neil,  and  Samson  snatched 
up  whatever  weapon  was  nearest  and  hurriedly  joined  Mr.  Marvin. 

But  by  the  time  they  had  all  collected  arovind  Hugh,  he  had  choked  the  owl 
to  death  with  his  free  hand.  The  bird  had  given  him  some  ugly  scratches,  how- 
ever, and  his  face  looked  ghastly  pale  in  the  moonlight. 

Fortunately  no  arteries  or  large  veins  had  been  pierced  by  tlic  owl's  talons  or 
beak.  Samson,  who  was  not  a  bad  doctor  in  affairs  of  this  kind,  l)ound  up 
Hugh's  wounds,  and  they  did  not  afterward  give  him  much  ti-()ul)k'. 


60  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

Next  morniiiir.  ]Mr.  Marvin  skinned  the  owl  and  ])acked  the  .skin  away  for 
mounting-. 

The  party  resumed  their  journey,  and  at  once  began  following  a  zigzag  road 
that  led  up  the  steep  side  of  the  mountain  they  had  to  cross. 

Neil  preferred  to  walk.  He  was  keeping  a  diary  of  all  that  happened  and  of 
what  he  saw  and  heard.  Being  nimble  of  foot,  he  was  easily  able  to  keep  ahead 
of  the  wagons,  and  whenever  he  saw  a  new  plant  or  tree  or  some  rare  bird,  he 
would  sit  down  upon  a  stone  beside  the  road  and  write  a  description  of  it  in  his 
book.  He  could  draw  a  little,  too,  and  he  made  sketches,  as  best  he  could,  of 
such  objects  and  bits  of  landscape  as  he  thought  might  be  interestingly  described 
in  a  more  comprehensive  account  of  their  journey,  which  he  meant  to  prepare 
at  his  leisure. 

There  were  not  many  birds  ou  the  mountain,  but  Neil  had  a  good  opportunity 
to  note  the  appearance  and  habits  of  the  plicated  woodpeckei-,  a  bird  very  rare 
in  the  Middle  and  Western  States.  It  is  next  to  the  largest  of  American  wood- 
peckers, being  nearly  the  size  of  a  crow,  almost  black,  with,  a  tall  scarlet  crest 
on  the  back  of  its  head.  The  mountaineers  call  it  log-cock,  because  it  is  so 
often  seen  pecking  on  rotten  logs  in  the  woods.  It  makes  its  nest  in  a  hollow 
which  it  digs  in  decaying  tree-boles. 

When  our  friends  i-eached  the  top  of  the  mountain,  they  found  a  fine  grove 
of  chestnut  trees  loaded  with  their  opening  burrs.  Samson,  Hugh,  and  Judge 
gathered  a  large  bagful  of  the  nuts  and  put  them  in  the  wagon. 

Neil  climbed  to  the  toj)  of  a  great  stone-pile  from  which  he  had  a  grand  view 
of  the  surrounding  country,  for  miles  and  miles.  He  could  see  beautiful  valleys 
and  shining  streams,  cozy  farm-houses  and  scattering  villages,  while  far  off, 
against  the  horizon  in  every  direction,  rose  an  undulating  line  of  blue  mountains. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  they  reached  a  good  camping-place  among  the  foot- 
hills on  the  Georgia  side.  Thej^  all  were  very  hungry  and  tired.  The  smell  of 
broiling  bacon  and  steeping  coffee  soon  filled  the  dew^^  air.  A  small  cold 
mountain-brook  bubbled  along  beside  the  tents,  and  not  far  off  was  the  log 
cabin  of  a  family  of  mountaineers. 

''  We  are  near  to  the  quail  country  now,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  ''  and  I  think 
we  may  count  upon  some  good  shooting  to-morrow.  The  valley  just  below  us 
is  covered  with  farms,  and  no  one  ever  comes  there  to  hunt." 

''  But  will  the  farmers  let  us  shoot  their  birds f  "  incpiired  Neil,  who  recollected 
the  angry  remonstratious  of  some  of  the  prairie  folk  against  the  shooting  of 
grouse. 

"  O,  yes,"  said  Uncle  Charley;  ^*  these  mountain  people  are  the  most  hos- 
pitable and  accommodating  folk  you  ever  saw.  Their  leading  thought,  so  long 
as  we  stay  among  them,  will  be  to  make  us  thoroughly  enjoy  ourselves." 

Samson  announced  supper.  All  were  quite  ready  to  do  justice  to  the  meal  he 
had  prepared,  and  they  were  busily  engaged  in  eating,  when  a  man  and  two 


3IAliVIN  AXJ)    Ills   J!()Y  UrXTERS.  61 

boys  approached  tlioin,  Ix'arinu'  rtaiiiiiiu'  torclK's  made  of  loiiu'  s])liiitt'rs  of  piti-li- 
pine. 

''Hello,  straugers,  liow  d'ye  do?"  exclniiiM'd  the  man  in  a  hearty,  friendly 
voice. 

"  Good-evening/'  said  Uncle  Charley,  very  cordially. 

''Seein'yonr  fire  down  here,  I  thought  that  mebbe  you'd  like  to  join  in  a 
little  fun  up  the  hollow,"  said  the  stranger. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  fun  '? "  inquired  Uncle  Charley. 

"  My  old  dog  Bounce  has  treed  a  'coon  up  the  hollow,  and  we  're  just  going  to 
cut  the  tree.  Can't  you  come  and  go  along  ? "  The  man,  as  he  spoke,  took  an 
ax  from  his  shoulder  aiul  rested  it  on  the  ground  by  his  feet.  "Don't  you  hear 
the  dog  baying?"  he  added. 

Sure  enough,  the  hoarse  mouthing  of  a  cur  came  echoing  from  the  de])ths  of 
the  wood. 

"  Ef  you  're  shoor  dat  it 's  a  'coon,"  said  Samson,  "  why,  den  I  "d  like  ter  go." 

"  So  would  I !  "  said  Hugh. 

"  Well,  it 's  a  'coon,"  said  the  man.  ''  Old  Bounce  does  n't  bark  for  anytliing 
but  coons  or  wild  cats.     It  might  possihly  be  a  wild  cat." 

Mr.  Marvin  said  he  thought  that  he  would  go,  too,  as  he  had  n't  seen  a  'coon 
fight  for  a  great  many  years.  Uncle  Charley,  Neil,  and  Judge  preferred  to  stay 
at  the  camp.  Neil  wanted  to  write  a  letter  to  his  father  before  going  to  l)ed. 
Uncle  Charley  was  tired,  and  Judge  was  sleepy. 

The  torches,  as  they  were  borne  away  through  the  woods,  made  the  men  and 
boys  who  kept  within  their  light  look  like  restless  specters.  If  Neil  had  known 
what  an  exciting  event  w^as  about  to  happen,  up  in  that  little  hollow,  he  would 
not  have  staid  in  camp  as  he  did.  He  presently  heard  the  sound  of  an  ax 
ringing  on  solid  timber,  and,  after  a  long  while,  a  great  tree  fell  to  the  ground 
with  a  loud  crash.  Then  there  arose  a  perfect  bedlam  of  voices.  The  yelp- 
ing of  a  dog  was  mingled  with  shouts  and  screams  and  a  sound  as  of  some 
savage  animal  snarling  and  fighting.  Uncle  Charley  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
listened. 

''It  is  a  wild  cat,"  he  said,  "and  it  is  'punishing'  that  dog  terril)ly.  Just 
listen  !     What  a  fight  they  're  having ! " 

They  could  hear  Hugh's  clear  voice  and  Samson's  loud  shouts  mingling  with 
the  general  din. 

''  Is  there  any  danger  "?  Do  you  think  Hugh  will  get  hurt  ? ''  exclaimed  Neil, 
whose  first  thought  was  for  the  safety  of  his  brother.  Uncle  Charley  did 
not  at  once  reply.  He  w^as  too  much  absorbed  in  listening  to  the  exciting 
racket. 

"  Let 's  go  to  them,"  continued  Neil ;  "  they  may  need  help.'' 

"  It 's  too  far,"  said  Uncle  Charley  ;  "  we  could  not  get  there  in  time  to  be  of 
auv  service."     And,  even  as  he  spoke,  the  noise  began  to  subside. 


62 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


''  They  've  killed  it,  or  it  has  escaped,"  Uucle  Charley  continued;  "they'll  he 
coming  back  directly.  It  mnst  have  been  a  hard  fight  while  it  lasted,  and  very 
exciting,  too,  for  I  heard  Marvin  yell  loudly  once  or  twice." 

''  I  wish  I  had  gone  along,"  said  Neil,  moving  restlessly  about ;  "  I  would  n't 
have  missed  it  for  anything." 

''  If  it  was  a  wild  cat,  and  I  think  it  was,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "  it  must  have 
escaped.  I  don't  think  they  could  have  killed  it  in  so  short  a  time.  There 
was  n't  a  gun  in  the  party,  and  I  know,  from  the  way  the  dog  howled,  that  the 
victory  was  not  due  to  him  ;  he  was  whipped." 

"  Why  did  n't  Mr.  Marvin  and  Hugh  take  their  guns  ?  I  never  heard  of  such 
carelessness!"  said  Neil,  adding  anxiously:  "Perhaps  some  one  of  them  is 
badly  hurt." 

After  long  waiting,  Uncle  Charley  and  Neil  at  last  saw  the  flash  of  torches. 


"A  good  ciimpiug-pliicu  ou  thu  Uoorgia  side." 


JIAh'VIX  AM)   HIS  HOY  lirXTEBS.  63 


XIII. 
SAMSON   DESfHIBES   THE   BATTLE. 


'^  ~f~^E  ge'man  brag  about  his  dog-  all  de  way  up  dar,"  Samson  said  in  an  nnder- 

I  J  tone  as  he  came  up  to  Uncle  Charley  and  Neil,  quite  a  distance  in 
advance  of  the  others,  "  but  it  '11  s'prise  me  ef  he  brag  any  mo'  shortly  !  Dat  dog 
done  got  all  he  want  ob  dat  varmint,  I  tell  yon.  Yo'  orter  seed  de  ha'r  an'  fuz 
fly  outen  dat  dog.  Howl !  dat  word  don't  rightly  'spress  de  fac' ;  he  more  'n 
howled,  he  jist  naterally  squaUed.  De  varmint  cleaned  'im  up  in  less  'an  no 
time !  I  neber  see  sech  a  scrimmage  !  Eberybody  run  ober  eberybody,  an'  de 
varmint  a-flyin'  round  like  a  regular  tiger,  a-snappin'  an'  a-clawin'  at  ebery- 
thing  it  seed !  Yo'  orter  seed  dat  man  a-cavorting  round  de  dog  w'en  de  varmint 
was  a-chawiu'  ob  it  up.  'Peared  like  de  man  'lowed  dat  dog  could  n't  be  got  away 
wid  no  how  !    Bress  my  po'  soul,  Imt  it  was  oudacious  how  dat  dog  bawled  ! " 

At  this  point  in  Samson's  monologue,  the  rest  of  the  party  of  'coon-hunters 
came  up,  all  of  them  more  or  less  excited.  The  tall,  strong  mountaineer 
carried  a  dead  wild  cat  strung  upon  a  pole. 

''Ah,  you  killed  it,  did  you  f"  exclaimed  Uncle  Charley. 

''  Y-e-s,  the  boy  kiUed  it,"  replied  the  man  ;  "  he  knocked  it  on  the  head  with 
a  light'd  knot.'' 

The  man  alluded  to  Samson  when  he  said  ''  boy."  Southern  men  usually  call 
all  colored  men  boys. 

''■  Malls'  Hugh  ud  'a'  been  a  gone  chile  ef  I  had  n't  'a'  knocked  de  varmint,'' 
said  Samson. 

''  How  was  thatf "  demanded  Uncle  Charley  with  a  look  of  alarm. 

"  Was  it  after  Hugh  ? "  exclaimed  Neil,  excitedly. 

"  Oh,  it  was  a-bowsin'  around  an'  a-snappin'  an'  a-clawin',  an'  Mahs*  Hugh  he 
dim'  a  tree  up  a  little  ways,  an'  de  dog  was  a-howlin'  at  a  great  rate,  an'  I  was 
a-pouudin'  away  at  the  varmint,  an'  it  dim'  de  tree,  too,  an'  nearly  cotch  up  wid 
Mahs'  Hugh  afore  he  got  six  feet  high  up  de  tree,  an'  Mahs'  Hugh  he  was 
a-squeechin'  powerful,  an'  den  I  whack'd  it  on  de  head  an'  down  it  came  !  Den 
dat  dog  he  got  berry  sabbage  all  to  once,  seein'  dat  de  varmint  wus  kickiu'  its 
last,  an'  he  got  braver  an'  lu'aver,  an'  fell  to  fightin'  it  like  mad.  But  dat  var- 
mint had  done  gib  dat  dog  'nuff  fore  dat,  I  tell  ye  !  " 

"  Hit 's  the  biggest  catanoun  I  ever  seed,"  said  the  mountaineer. 

"  The  biggest  what  ?"  inquired  Neil,  very  innocently. 

''  Catanoun,"  said  the  man:  "  did  n't  ve  ever  see  one  afore?" 


64  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

Uncle  Charley  took  occasion  to  whisper  in  Neil's  ear:  "  He  means  catamount; 
don't  laugh  at  him." 

"  I  never  saw  a  live  one  before  this,"  Neil  responded  very  respectfully. 

''  They  's  lots  of  'em  up  in  the  hills/'  said  the  man,  "  but  they  don't  often 
ventur'  down  this  fur." 

^*  But  when  dey  do  ventur'  down,"  i)ut  in  Samson,  Avith  a  comical  twist  to  his 
funny  old  face,  ^'  when  dey  do  ventur'  down  dey  's  rough  on  dogs  !  " 

''  I  tell  you,  I  felt  scared  when  the  thing  started  up  the  tree  after  me  ! ''  said 
Hugh,  shrugging  his  shoulders  at  the  thought. 

"  It  was  n't  after  you,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "  it  was  only  trying  to  get  away  from 
Samson's  pine-knot." 

"  Well,  I  did  n't  want  it  to  climb  over  me  to  get  away,"  said  Hugh. 

'^  He  dim'  ober  dat  dog "  began  Samson. 

"  Be  quiet,  Samson,"  muttered  Uncle  Charley,  "you  've  said  enough  about  the 
dog." 

"  Oh,  let  the  boy  hev  'is  say,"  exclaimed  the  mountaineer  good-naturedly ; 
"  the  cat  did  most  onmarcifully  chaw  Ole  Bounce  up  in  onreasonable  short 
order." 

Samson  chuckled,  but  said  nothing  more  until  after  the  man  and  his  boys 
were  gone. 

Next  morning,  our  friends  descended  into  the  valley  and  pitched  their  tents 
among  the  fertile  farms. 

A  railway  crossed  the  lower  end  of  this  valley,  where  there  was  a  small  village 
and  a  station  from  which  Mr.  Marvin  could  ship  his  game. 

The  camping-place  was  beside  a  deep,  narrow  little  river,  or  ri\'ulet,  the  wind- 
ing course  of  which  through  the  valley  was  marked  by  parallel  fringes  of  plane 
and  tulip  trees. 

The  farms  were  very  rich,  having  that  peculiar  sort  of  soil  called  ''  mulatto," 
in  which  the  famous  Georgia  red  wheat  grows  to  such  perfection  as  it  never 
attains  elsewhere. 

Here  the  blue  jays,  cardiiuil-grosbeaks,  brown  thrushes,  and  crested  fly- 
catchers were  found  by  Neil.  Gray  squirrels,  already  growing  scarce  in  the 
Western  States,  seemed  to  be  quite  plentiful  in  this  region,  and  were  the  only 
small  game  hunted  by  the  farmers,  whose  long  flint-lock  rifles  were  quite  inter- 
esting to  Neil  and  Hugh. 

Judge  was  sent  to  the  neighboring  village,  that  afternoon,  to  get  some  needed 
supplies,  and  to  post  some  letters,  among  which  was  a  long  one  from  Neil  to  his 
father. 

Since  they  had  crossed  the  moimtains  and  descended  into  Georgia,  they  noticed 
a  certain  sweetness  and  warmth  in  the  air,  and  even  at  that  late  season  the  sky 
had  a  summer-like  tenderness  of  color.  Many  of  the  deeiduous  trees  still 
retained  their  leaves,  and  the  fanners  were  in  llic  midst  of  wheat-sowing. 


MAliVIN  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS. 


65 


Neil  and  Hugh  were 
surprised  to  see  boys 
smaller  than  Hugh  plow- 
ing in  the  fields  or  "  shuck- 
ing" corn. 

Every  one,  old  and  younir, 
seemed  happy,  industrious, 
and  contented. 

Most  of  the  houses  were 


The  a^ht  with  the  wild  cat. 


huilt  of  split  logs,  with  no  chinking  in  the  cracks,  and  covered  with  clap- 
hoards.  The  chimneys  were  made  of  sticks  of  wood  built  up  pen-fashion  and 
covered  with  mud  or  clay. 

In  fact,  ever3i;hing,  even  to  the  trees  and  ilic  wihl  flowers,  was  strange  and 
interesting,  especially  to  Neil.  The  people  were  exceedingly  kind  and  hospitable, 
giving  the  hunters  all  the  aid  in  their  power. 

And  so  their  first  quail-liiint  promised  to  be  all  that  tlicy  t-oiild  desire. 


66  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


XIV. 

a:mong  the  quails. 

MR.  MARVIN  called  Neil  and  Hugh  to  him  and  said  that  he  had  some  direc- 
tions and  instructions  to  give  them. 

"  We  are  about  to  begin  quail-shooting,"  he  said,  "  and  I  think  we  are  going 
to  have  rare  sport.  The  game  is  abundant,  the  weather  fine,  and  the  covert  very 
favorable  for  fair  shooting.  Now,  you  will  find  that  so  soon  as  the  quails  com- 
mence to  rise  you  will  begin  to  grow  excited.  AU  I  ask  of  you  is  that  you  will 
promise  to  be  careful  with  your  guns.  There  is  danger  of  your  being  so  eager 
to  shoot  every  bird  that  is  flushed  that  you  will  not  stop  to  think  where  your 
shot  may  go.  You  must  always  remember  that  the  new  and  improved  guns 
which  your  uncle  gave  you  shoot  very  hard  and  far,  and  that  great  sorrow 
and  distress  might  be  caused  by  the  slightest  carelessness  or  mishap.  Besides, 
the  habit  of  coolness  and  caution,  if  acquired  in  j'our  boyhood,  will  prove  of 
the  greatest  value  to  you  throughout  your  lives.  There  is  an  old  adage  which 
says :  '  Look  before  you  leap.'  A  good  maxim  for  the  hunter  is  :  '  Look  before 
you  shoot.'  Not  only  look  at  the  game,  but  look  beyond  it,  and  be  sure  that 
your  shot  will  hit  nothing  but  the  object  of  your  aim. 

"  Now,  shooting  over  fenced  farms  is  quite  different  from  shooting  on  the 
open  prairie.  While  hunting  here  in  this  valley,  you  will  be  constantly  climbing 
over  fences.  You  must  remember  that  you  are  positively  forbidden  to  climb 
a  fence  with  a  load  in  your  gun.  It  is  but  the  work  of  a  moment  to  open  the 
Ijreech  and  take  out  the  shells.  So  much  by  way  of  caution,  for  the  sake  of 
safety.  Now,  a  word  or  two  about  the  best  practice  in  quail-shooting.  This 
game  when  flushed  rises  Avith  a  suddenness  and  force  that  are  quite  tiwing  to 
the  eyes  and  nerves  of  young  shooters.  The  sound  made  by  the  wings  of  the 
bird  adds  to  the  startling  effect.  This  is  apt  to  throw  you  off  your  guard  and 
render  you  somewhat  confused  and  uncertain  of  hand  and  vision.  The  quail's 
flight  is  very  swift,  and  you  must  shoot  quickly ;  but  you  must  also  shoot 
d('lil)erately.  Be  sure  that  you  flre  your  right-hand  barrel  first,  as  it  scatters 
the  shot  wider,  and  reserve  your  left-hand  barrel  for  the  longer  range,  especially 
if  you  wish  to  make  a  double  wing-shot. 

"  In  flushing  quail,  the  bii*d  will  sometimes  rise  at  your  very  feet,  so  to  sj^eak, 
and  then  there  is  danger  that  you  will  be  in  too  much  haste  to  fire.  The  1)est 
way  to  prevent  random  shooting,  in  such  a  case,  is  to  wait  till  your  vision  has 
adjusted  itself;  that  is,  until  you  clearly  see  the  direction  of  the  bird's  flight. 


MAliVIX  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS.  67 

When  once  you  have  commaud  of  your  vision,  and  have  ac(iiiii-.<i  tli.-  jx.w.t  of 
centeriug  it  on  the  flying  game,  you  will  be  able  to  cover  your  point  (»f  aim  with 
your  gun  without  any  hesitancy. 

''  When  your  dog  has  pointed  game,  do  not  rush  suddenly  tor  ward  to  flush  it. 
Consider  a  moment,  and  look  about  the  huidscape  to  see  if  any  person  or  animal 
is  visible.  Next  consider  in  what  direction  the  game  is  likely  to  fly.  If  any 
thick  covert  is  near,  it  is  quite  safe  to  presume  that  the  bird  will  go  in  that 
direction.  Now  step  slowly  and  firmly  forward,  holding  your  gun  in  front  of 
you  with  the  muzzle  pointing  upward  and  away  fi-om  you. 

''  The  bird  will  rise  in  a  steep  incline  to  the  height  of,  perhaps,  ten  or  fifteen 
feet,  and  there  steady  itself  for  a  strong,  straight  flight.  If  you  can  get  your 
aim  — or  cover  your  bird  — at  about  the  time  it  begins  to  fly  level,  you  will 
find  your  shot  most  satisfactory, 

"  In  raising  your  gun  to  your  shoulder  to  take  aim,  be  careful  not  to  have  it 
catch  or  hang  in  any  part  of  your  clothing.  Lift  it  with  a  swift  but  deliberate 
motion,  and  set  the  butt  firmly  in  the  hollow  of  your  right  shoulder,  with  your 
right  forefinger  barely  touching  the  front  trigger.  Don't  dodge  or  wink  when 
you  fire ;  keep  every  muscle  and  nerve  perfec^tly  steady.  If  you  fire  but  one 
barrel,  immediately  open  your  gun  and  reload  that  barrel.  Then  send  your  dog 
to  bring  in  your  bird, —  that  is,  provided  you  have  killed  one." 

After  this  little  lecture  was  over,  they  all  made  ready  for  a  trani])  in  the 
adjacent  fields. 

The  dogs  were  well-nigh  frantic  with  delight  on  finding  out  that  theii-  turn  for 
sport  had  come.    They  leaped  and  frisked,  and  barked  in  their  excess  of  delight. 

Neil  and  Hugh  were  almost  as  well  pleased  as  the  dogs,  and  were  not  slow 
in  getting  ready  for  the  hunt.  They  both  thought  they  would  rememlx'r  Mr. 
Marvin's  directions,  and  felt  quite  confident  of  their  ability  to  shoot  well. 

Samson  was  left  to  take  care  of  the  camp,  and  very  soon  the  hunters  were 
ranging  over  the  rolling  fields  of  that  fair  valley,  following  their  enthusiastic 
dogs. 

Quails  were  soon  found.  Neil  and  Hugh  were  together  when  Don,  the  dog 
set  apart  to  their  use,  found  a  large  bevy  in  a  patch  of  broom  sedge  near  the 
middle  of  about  fifty  acres  of  fallow  laud. 

"  Now,  Hugh,"  said  Neil,  "  let 's  do  as  Mr.  Marvin  said.  Let 's  keep  cool  and 
look  before  we  shoot.  There  's  no  one  near  us,  and  so  long  as  we  don't  shoot 
each  other  or  the  dog  we  shall  do  no  harm,  even  if  we  miss  the  birds." 

While  Neil  was  speaking  Hugh  had  clutched  his  gun  nervously,  in  readiness 
to  shoot. 

'' Oh,  I'm  cool  enough,"  said  he;  "  come  on,  let  's  flush  the  birds  and  get  to 
business." 

"No,"  said  Neil ;  ''  you  can't  hit  anything  while  you  're  trembling  in  that  way. 
Steady  yourself,  and  be  sure  you  've  got  your  aim  before  you  fire." 


68 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

You  just  be  sure  about  your 


*'  Pshaw ! ''  exclaimed  Hugli ;  ^'  I  'm  all  right, 
self,  aud  get  your  owu  aim ;  I  '11  get  miue." 

This  was  not  said  in  an  unpleasant  way,  for  Hugh  was  only  in  a  liurry  aud 
did  not  want  to  Ix'  l)othered  with  advice.      He  walked  forward  as  he  spoke  and 


flushed  the  birds.  They  rose  in  a  close  body  with  a  loud  roar  of  wings.  Tliere 
were  at  least  twenty  of  them. 

Hugh  quickly  leveled  his  gun  and  fired  at  the  center  of  the  flock.  Down 
came  five  Inrds.  He  forgot  to  fire  his  left-hand  barrel,  so  pleased  Avas  he  with 
his  luck. 

Neil  waited  till  after  Hugh's  l)irds  had  fallen;  then  he  singled  out  a  (|uail  of 
the  scattering  bevy  and  brought  it  down  in  fine  style.  Quick  as  thought  he 
aimed  at  another  and  pulled  the  trigger  of  the  left  barrel.  His  last  shot  missed. 
Hugh  gathered  up  his  five  l)irds  and  cast  his  eyes  rather  saucily  at  Neil. 

"I  guess,"  said  he,  ''I  was  almost  as  ready  for  busiiu^ss  as  you  Avere." 

"You  seem  to  be  four  ahead  of  me,  to  start  with,"  Neil  replied;  "but  the 
race  is  not  won  till  it 's  done." 

"All  right,"  said  Hugh,  confidently,  as  he  reloaded  the  empty  barrel  of  his 
gun ;  "  we  '11  keep  count  and  see  who  beats." 


3IAIiVIX  AM)   II LS  BOY  IILWTEKS.  69 

The  birds  had  scattered  rather  widely  in  some  low  weeds  alon<^  a  fenee-row. 
Neil  had  "  marked  two  down  " ;  that  is,  he  had  noted  where  they  settk-d  near  an 
okl  stump.  He  left  Huj,^h  to  follow  Don,  and  went  to  iiush  liis  l)irds  liims.'lf. 
They  rose  almost  tog-etlu-r.  He  fired  right  and  left ;  ])ut,  as  Ix-fore,  only  killed 
one.  He  heard  Hugh  tire  twice  in  close  succession,  and  at  the  same  time  31r. 
Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  began  a  perfect  volley  over  in  a  neighboring  field  of 
corn-stalks.  He  followed  the  bird  he  had  missed  to  where  it  had  lit  in  a  clump 
of  blackberry  briars.  When  it  got  up  he  missed  it  again  with  his  right  barrel, 
but  quickly  covered  it  again  and  killed  it  with  his  left. 

''  I  am  in  too  big  a  hurry  when  they  rise,"  he  thought ;  '^  I  must  try  and  over- 
come that  fault." 

Neil's  knowledge  of  the  habits  of  the  ({uail  gave  liim  quite  an  advantage  over 
Hugh,  who  had  never  studied  such  things.  For  instance,  Neil  never  would  have 
wasted  an  hour  of  his  time  beating  around  in  a  marshy  place  hunting  for  quail. 
Hugh  did  this,  not  knowing  that  quails  prefer  diy  fields  where  small  grain  or 
weed-seeds  are  abundant.  The  loss  of  so  much  time  without  seeing  a  bird  gave 
him  little  chance  to  compete  with  Neil,  who,  without  a  dog,  flushed  a  small 
flock  and  succeeded  in  making  several  fine  shots,  adding  six  birds  to  his  bag. 
Once  he  saw  a  bird  flying  toward  him.  It  was  coming  from  the  direction  in 
which  Hugh  was  hunting,  and  so  Neil  would  not  shoot  till  it  had  passed 
him.  He  turned  about  and  tried  to  get  a  good  aim,  but  somehow  he  missed 
again. 

Every  young  shooter  will  have  this  trouble  at  first.  He  will  feel  quite  sure 
that  he  aims  correctly,  but  he  will  fail  to  stop  his  bird.  This  usually  arises  from 
a  bad  method  of  directing  the  gun.  It  may  be  that  the  young  hunter  holds  his 
head  too  high,  in  which  case  he  will  over-shoot ;  or  he  may  fail  to  pull  the 
trigger  just  as  he  fixes  his  aim,  and  thus  miss  by  shooting  too  low  or  behind  his 
bird.  If  the  butt  of  the  gun  be  held  against  the  arm,  instead  of  in  the  hollow  of 
the  shoulder,  it  may  derange  the  aim.  Nothing  but  careful,  intelligent  practice 
can  overcome  these  faults. 

Hugh  fired  eight  or  ten  tunes  before  he  added  another  quail  to  his  five.  It 
was  great  sport,  nevertheless,  and  Don  worked  faithfully  to  make  his  young 
master  enjoy  it. 

Just  before  they  started  back  to  camp,  the  boys  found  a  large  sweet-gum  tree 
that  stood  alone  near  the  middle  of  a  field.  As  they  approached  it  a  sweet 
resinous  fragrance  greeted  their  senses — a  perfume  entirely  unlike  anything 
they  had  ever  sraelled  before. 

"  That  is  liquid-amber,"  said  Neil ;  "  let 's  get  some  to  chew." 

A  place  on  the  tree  had  been  hacked  with  an  ax,  and  large  beads  of  clear 
yellow  wax  or  gum  had  formed  on  the  chipped  edges  of  the  wound. 

"  What  a  delightful  fragrance!"  said  Hugh;  *'but  how  do  you  know  it  is  fit  to 
chew  ? " 


ro 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


" Oil,  I  kuow  "  said  Neil ;  ''I've  been  posting  myself  on  tlie  natural  history  of 
this  region.     This  gum  tastes  quite  as  delicately  delicious  as  it  smells." 

They  gathered  some  of  it  and  found  it  just  suited  to  their  boyish  taste,  Hugh 
declared  that  nothing  in  the  world  ever  was  so  good.  They  did  not  swallow  it, 
but  simply  chewed  it  to  get  the  racy  essence  of  it. 

The  guns  of  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin  kept  up  an  almost  incessant  boom- 
ing about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  while  the  boys  were  curiously  examining  the 
gum-tree.  The  leaves  had  been  touched  with  the  shai-p  frosts  of  November,  but 
they  had  not  yet  fallen  off.  They  had  taken  on  brilliant  colors,  as  the  maple 
leaves  do  in  the  North,  but  their  tints  were  even  purer  in  carmine,  scarlet,  dark 
purple,  orange,  primrose,  green,  and  brown. 

The  perfume  and  taste  of  liquid-amber  is  (piite  unlike  anything  else  of  the 
kind.  There  is  an  elusiveness  about  the  flavor  both  pleasing  and  tantalizing. 
Childi-en  all  like  it,  but  they  can  scarcely  tell  why.  It  seems  to  have  a  sug- 
gestiveness  in  it,  so  to  speak,  of  spicy  roots  and  bark  and  buds  —  a  mere  hint  of 
pungency  and  acriduess,  along  with  the  sweetest  and  most  delicate  aromatic 

fragrance  that  lingers  in  the  senses 
for  hours. 

As  the  boys  were  pursuing  their 
way  further  toward  camp,  they  came 
to  one  of  those  shallow,  bushy  ravines 
so  common  in  the  valleys  of  North 
Georgia.  Don  pointed  at  the  edge  of 
the  wild  tangle  of  vines  overgrowing 
the  place. 

'■'■  Look  out,  now,"  said  Neil ;  "  if  a 
bevy  of  quail  gets  up  here,  it  will  call 
for  snap-shots  of  the  quickest  kind.'' 
Don  points  the  heath-cock.  jj^^  words  had   scarcely  been  ut- 

tered when  whir-r-r-r !  went  up  a  big  brown  bird,  making  a  great  sound  with 
its  strong  wings. 

Bang!  bang!  went  the  guns  of  both  Neil  and  Ilugli.     The  l)ird's  flight  was 
stopped  short,  and  down  it  fell  not  twenty  yards  from  their  feet. 
"  That  was  a  draw,"  said  Neil. 
''  What  sort  of  bird  is  a  draw  ? "  inquired  Hugh. 

''Oh,  I  was  n't  speaking  of  the  bird's  name  — it's  a  pheasant  or  partridge;  I 
spoke  of  the  shot.  When  two  sportsmen  fire  at  the  same  bird  at  the  same 
instant,  and  it  is  killed,  the  shot  is  called  a  draw,  and  the  bird  is  not  counted  to 
either  of  them.  You  ought  to  have  it,  though,  for  it  was  Hushed  on  your  side 
of  the  dog." 

Don  brought  in  the  game,  carrying  it  very  proudly,  as  if  he  knew  that  it  was 
quite  a  prize.      Neil  took  it  and  held  it  up,  spreading  its  wings  and  displaying 


MARVIN  AND    II IS   HOY   HUNTERS. 


71 


the  beaiitiful  sliades  of  color.  It  was  a  fuU-iiTowii  cock  in  its  sc<-oii(l  year's 
plumage,  and  the  various  tints  of  olive,  browu,  l)la('k,  l)luisli  white,  and  ash-color 
were  as  bright  as  the  tints  of  wild  flowers. 

''This,"  said  Neil,  "is  the  ruffed  grouse  named  by  the  naturalists  Tetruo 
Umbclhts,  formerly  called  ruffed  heath-cock.  It 
has  some  very  curious  and  interesting  habits. 
In  spring  it  makes  a  heavy  pounding  sound 
which  resembles  the  notes  of  a  drum  in  the  dis- 
tance. On  dreamy,  sunshiny  mornings  in  early 
May  this  hollow  noise  has  a  strange  effect  when 
heard  for  the  first  time  in  the  wild  woods." 

Neil  delivered  this  somewhat  in  the  tone  of  one 
reading  from  a  book. 

"But  how  did  you  find  out  so  much  about 
ruffed  grouse  f  You  never  saw  one  before,  did 
you "?"  inquired  Hugh. 

"  I  have  studied  all  about  game-birds,"  said  Neil, 
"  I  'm  going  to  write  a  book  on  them  sometime." 
They  hunted  diligently  about  the  ravine,  bnt  found  no  other  grouse.     In 
fact,  this  bird  is  often  lonely  in  its  habit,  especially  in  the  Southern  States, 
though  as  far  North  as  Michigan  large  flocks  are  found  in  autumn  and  winter. 
Neil  brought  in  eleven  birds  in  all.     Hugh  had  but  seven. 


'•Tlif  (Innniuiuj^- 


72 


boy;:^'  book  of  spoets. 


XV. 


CAMP-CHAT. 


WHEN  our  friends  reached  camp,  Judge  had  returned  from  the  village, 
bringing  a  bundle  of  letters  and  papers. 

The  quails  were  turned  over  to  Samson  to  be  prepared  for  market,  as  it  had 
been  agreed  that  all  the  game  killed  by  the  party,  over  and  above  what  the}' 
needed  to  cook,  should  belong  to  Mr.  Marvin,  Uncle  Charley  bearing  all  the 
expenses  of  the  excursion. 

When  the  game  was  counted,  it  was  found  that  there  were  one  hundred  and 
ten  })irds  as  the  day's  bag. 

Neil  and  Hugh  each  received  a  letter  from  their  father,  and  Hugh  had  one 
from  Tom  Dale.  By  the  time  these  were  read,  a  very  late  dinner  had  been  spread, 
and  they  all  ate  with  that  gusto  known  only  to  hunters,  and  which  would 
not  be  considered  very  elegant  in  polite  society.  But  when  men  and  boys  get 
out  into  the  freedom  of  the  woods  and  fields  for  a  time,  tliey  become  just  a 


MARVIN  AM)    ms  BOY  lirXTERS.  73 

little  savage  and  animal-like,  and  arc  ai)t  occasionally  to  Lrcak  tlirongh  some  of 
the  stricter  rules  of  the  parlor  and  dining-room. 

A  road  ran  near  the  camp  and  went  winding  away  down  the  valley  to  the 
village.  ^Vlong  this,  now  and  then,  containing  a  mountaineer  and  his  family, 
passed  a  wagon,  drawn  by  slow-moving  little  oxen  whose  short  wrinkled  necks 
were  bowed  under  big  round  yokes.  The  vehicles  were  of  rough  home-make, 
with  wooden  axles  and  vast  hubs  to  the  wheels,  out  of  which  dripped  the  black 
pine-tar  used  for  lubricating.  The  white-haired  children  huddled  together  in  the 
beds,  or  boxes,  of  these  vehicles,  seemed  bright,  healthy,  aiul  happy.  They  gazed 
at  our  friends  with  lively  interest  as  they  were  slowly  trundled  past.  Uncle 
Charley  stopped  one  of  the  wagons  to  make  some  inquiries  of  the  man  driving 
it  about  the  country,  and  Neil  heard  one  little  boy  say  to  another  as  he  pointed 
slyly  at  the  tents : 

"  I  never  seed  folks  a-li\-in'  in  rag  houses  afore,  did  you  ? " 
"No,"  said  the  other;  ''and  the  houses  haint  got  no  ehimbleys  to  'em  nuther." 
''  Them  boys  looks  sorter  white-livered,  like  weemen,"  gravely  muttered  the 
first,  taking  a  chew  of  tobacco;  •'!  'low  they're  not  healthy." 

Neil  smiled  at  this  idea.  He  knew  that  he  was  stronger  than  both  of  those 
mountain  boys  put  together. 

Tom  Dale's  letter  brought  a  full  account  of  all  that  the  Belair  boys  had  been 
doing  since  Neil  and  Hugh  liad  left  the  village.  A  heavj^  snow  had  fallen,  and 
the  coasting  out  at  Dobbins'  hill  had  been  fine,  and  there  was  good  skating  on 
Loringer's  mill-pond. 

'Must  think  of  it!"  said  Hugh;  ''here  we  sit  in  our  shirt-sleeves,  with  a 
balmy  wind  blowing  over  us,  while  they  are  all  bundled  in  furs  and  mittens 
and  overcoats,  skating  on  the  ice  or  coasting  in  the  snow.  I  think  it 's  more 
fun  to  be  here,  don't  you  f  A  fellow  can't  enjoy  himself  rightly  with  a  pinched 
nose  and  benumbed  fingers.  And  then  the  wind  off  the  snowy  prairie  is  ter- 
ribly cold  and  biting,  sometimes." 

"  It 's  the  change  that  one  enjoys,  I  think,"  said  Neil.  "'  Don't  you  remember 
Gus  Fontaine,  who  came  to  Belair  from  San  Antonio,  Texas,  and  how  he  was 
charmed  with  our  winter  sports  ?  I  never  saw  a  boy  like  sleigh-riding  so  much ; 
and  rabbit-hunting,— why,  he  said  he  wanted  to  go  rabbit-hunting  every  day  ! 
He  seemed  never  to  get  "^ cold,  and  the  keener  the  wind  blew,  and  the  more  the 
frost-crystals  flew,  the  better  he  liked  the  weather." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Hugh,  "  Gus  was  a  queer  boy,  anyhow.  Do  you  remem])er  he 
astonished  us  the  first  time  he  rode  one  of  papa's  young  horses  around  the  lot 
without  any  bridle  or  saddle,  and  gave  us  what  he  called  the  Comanche  war- 
whoop?  He  could  ride  almost  any  horse,  in  that  way,  and  if  he  fell  off,  it  never 
seemed  to  hurt  him  a  bit." 

"  Well,  he  'd  learned  all  that  on  the  Texas  plains,"  said  Neil.  "  It  all  depends 
upon  where  you  live.     Now,  there  was  Ted  Brown,  from  Addison  Point,  Maine, 


74 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


who  came  to  see  us  last  summer,  just  tliink  liow  he  used  to  talk  about  the 
starboard  and  larboard  side  of  the  table  at  dinner,  and  how  he  used  to  yarn 
about  what  storms  he  had  been  in  on  his  father's  fishing-smack,  and  about 

seeing  sea-serpents,  and 
whales,  and  sea-lions, 
and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  But  he  enjoyed 
being  with  us  on  the 
farm;  all  boys  enjoy  a 
change  of  climate  and 
scenery." 

Mr.  Marvin  was  well 
pleased  with  the  result 
of  the  day's  shooting. 
The  birds  would  bring 
several  dollars,  he  said. 

^^Well,"  remarked 
Hugh,  ''I  think  I  shall 
be  a  market-hunter.  It 's 
just  as  good  as  being  a 
lawyer,  or  merchant,  or 
physician,  or  preacher." 
^' You  are  mistaken, my 
l)oy,"  said  Mr.  Marvin, 
gravely.  "  I  know  what  I  am  saying  when  I  tell  you  that  you  must  not  think  of 
throwing  away  your  life  on  so  precarious  and  toilsome  a  business.  Even  as 
recreation  from  the  effects  of  overlabor,  hunting  has  its  drawbacks ;  but  after 
you  have  followed  it  through  wind  and  rain  and  sleet  and  storm  for  years,  it 
becomes  immensely  irksome  as  a  regular  business.  Then,  too,  a  fellow  soon 
begins  to  feel  that  he  has  thrown  away  his  life.  When  I  was  a  young  man  I 
graduated  from  a  good  college,  and  I  might  have  made  something  of  myseK 
if  I  liad  n't  caught  the  naturalist's  fever ;  but  I  took  to  the  woods  and  the  fields 
and  became  a  homeless,  wandering  bird-shooter.  Of  course,  I  'm  too  old  to 
change  now ;  but  I  never  wish  to  hear  you  speak  again  of  following  my  mode 
of  living.  No,  no ;  you  and  Neil  have  a  higher  aim.  You  must  make  your  lives 
great  and  useful." 

"  Well,"  said  Hugh,  "  if  I  do  not  become  a  market-hunter,  T  shall  be  a  farmer. 
I  think,  like  Uncle  Charley,  and  own  cattle,  and  sheep,  and  hogs,  and  horses, 
and  broad  fields  of  corn,  and  beautiful  green  pastures." 

Night  had  now  come  on.  They  all  went  to  bed  early,  Hugh  and  Jndgc^  anu:>ng 
the  first,  for  they  had  secretly  agreed  to  get  up  before  daylight  and  go  off  to  hunt 
some  hares  by  moonlight,  in  a  little  glade  not  far  from  camp.     This  glade  was 


He  -wanted  to  go  rabbit  huutmg  (.^cl}  da> 


MARVIN  AND  JUS  BOY  JlUNTKliS.  75 

ill  tlic  inidst  of  a  dense  pine  wootl,  ;iiul  Judge  avowed  that  hares  always  met  in 
a  glade  to  dance  on  moonlight  nights.  But  they  had  their  troul)le  f<jr  uotliing. 
Not  a  hare  did  they  see.  The  morning  was  a  lovely  one,  however,  and  the  still, 
beautiful  valley  lay  as  if  asleep  in  tlie  soft  moonshine.  They  watched  the  glade 
for  an  hour  or  more,  and  returned  to  camj)  just  as  Samson  had  liglited  a  fire  for 
breakfast. 

'^  Wha'  I  tell  ye  f  said  the  old  man,  "  did  n't  ye  know  dat  de  rab])it  not  gwine 
pat  an'  dance  on  Friday  night  1  Rabbit  all  go  to  ribber  Frid.-iy  night  to  wash  der 
elo's." 

It  was  a  good  breakfast  that  KSamson  was  making.  Some  eggs  procured  at 
a  farm-house  were  beaten  into  a  light  foam  for  an  omelette,  and  some  bread, 
toasting  before  the  fire,  was  to  be  buttered  to  receive  the  broiled  quail.  Coffee 
was  boiling,  and  some  sweet-potatoes,  sliced  very  thin,  were  frying  in  a  pan  of 
lard,  to  be  taken  out  presently  and  wiped  with  a  clean  towel  and  put  on  a  plate 
and  eaten  while  crisp  and  hot.  A  pot  of  cranberry  jelly  and  some  blackberry 
jam  would  serve  as  helps,  whilst  some  hot  waffles  and  honey  with  milk  were  to 
close  the  meal. 

Neil  was  up  and  was  writing  in  his  diary,  and  Mr.  Marvin  was  cleaning  one  of 
his  guns.  He  showed  Hugh  all  the  mechanism  of  the  locks  and  breech-fasten- 
ing, and  explained  to  him  how  each  piece  was  made  to  exactly  fill  its  place, 
but  with  such  economy  as  to  take  up  the  least  possible  space. 

"  I  should  not  have  advised  your  father  to  allow  you  to  have  a  gun,  if  there 
had  been  no  breech-loaders,"  said  he  ;  '^  for  I  consider  a  muzzle-loading  gun  too 
dangerous  for  a  boy  to  handle.  The  beautiful  construction  of  a  breech-loader 
renders  it  entirely  unnecessary  for  the  shooter  ever  to  turn  the  muzzle  toward 
himself,  and  the  rebounding  locks  with  which  it  is  furnished  prevent  accident 
from  any  chance  blow  the  hammers  may  receive.  No  boy  ought  ever  to  have  a 
gun  that  has  not  rebounding  locks." 

"  Guess  dis  ole  gun  o'  mine  got  'bout  as  good  locks  as  any,"  said  Judge, 
fingering  the  priming-pan  of  his  clumsy  flint-lock  and  grinning  in  his  inimita- 
bly droll  way. 

The  sun  soon  came  up  over  the  range  of  blu(^  hills  east  of  the  valley,  and  the 
cardinal-grosbeaks  began  to  call  from  tree  to  tree  down  by  the  rivulet.  It  was 
like  a  May  morning  in  the  North,  only  tiie  air  was  more  balmy,  and  a  resinous  fra- 
grance seemed  to  fill  all  space — it  was  the  smell  of  the  turpentine  of  the  pines 
and  the  odor  of  the  liquid-amber. 

Neil  and  Hugh  went  down  to  the  edge  of  the  rivulet  and  washed  their  hands 
and  faces,  and  neatly  combed  their  hair. 

*'  Bre'kfus'  ready  !    Come  to  bre'kfus' !  "  called  Samson. 

Every  one  was  as  ready  as  the  breakfast,  and  very  soon  they  were  enjoying 
the  plenteous  and  healthful  feast. 


76  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

XVI. 

NEIL  SHOOTS   BIG   GA3IE. 

THE  fortiiiglit  spent  by  our  friends  in  the  North  Georgia  valley  was  one 
long  to  ]je  remembered  by  them,  especially  by  Neil  and  Hugh. 

Mr.  Marvin  took  great  pains  to  train  the  boys  in  all  the  tricks  and  turns  of 
quail-shooting,  and  at  the  same  time  he  made  plain  to  them  the  hidden  dangers 
that  lurk  in  the  path  of  the  young  hunter.  He  very  much  desired  that  no 
accident  should  befall  his  young  friends,  and  he  well  knew  that  it  required 
constant  vigilance  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  any  calamity  from  their  fervor 
and  exeitableness.  Neil  seemed  quite  prudent  and  cautious,  but  Hugh,  being 
younger  and  of  a  more  sanguine  and  impulsive  nature,  was  constantly  doing 
something  that  threatened  danger  to  himself  or  to  some  one  else.  Not  that  he 
meant  to  be  careless  or  unmindful  of  the  safety  of  those  about  him,  but  he 
seemed  to  forget  everything  else  and  entirely  lose  himself  for  the  time  in  what- 
ever chanced  to  be  uppermost  in  his  mind.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  keep 
steady  and  cool,  as  Neil  could.  What  he  did  was  always  done  without  the 
slightest  forethought,  and  ''with  a  rush  and  a  bang,"  as  Mr.  Marvin  said, 
one  day. 

Old  Samson,  who  heard  the  remark,  expressed  his  estimate  of  Hugh's  tem- 
perament by  replying :  "  Dat  's  so,  Mahs'  Marvin.  Ef  Mahs'  Hugh  'u'd  happen 
to  t'ink  ob  it,  he  'd  jump  inter  de  fii-e  afore  he  could  stop  hisse'f  ! " 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  chided  Hugh  very  often  about  his  reckless 
and  heedless  ways,  and  he  honestly  and  earnestly  tried  to  be  more  sober  and 
careful.  He  improved  quite  rapidly  in  his  shooting,  though  it  was  plain  that 
he  never  would  be  able  to  compete  with  Neil,  who  was  beginning  to  be  a  fine 
wing-shot  at  both  single  and  double  birds.  It  may  be  well  to  explain  just  here 
that  by  "double  birds  "is  meant,  in  the  sportsman's  parlance,  two  birds  at 
which  the  sliooter  fires  right  and  left.  If  he  kills  both  l)irds  one  after  the  other, 
the  hunter  calls  it  a  double  shot,  or  ''killing  a  double.'' 

Neil  had  studied  faithfully,  and  had  used  every  endeavor  to  concpier  all  his 
faults  in  shooting.  He  had  written  down  in  liis  diary  such  of  the  rides  of 
shooting  as  had  "l)een  given  to  him  by  Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley.  He  had 
learned  these  rules  by  heart  and  had  practiced  them  assiduously. 

On  the  contrary,  Hugh  jumped  to  all  his  conclusions.  He  forgot  every  rule 
as  soon  as  he  saw  a  bird,  and  depended  entirely  upon  sudden  inii)ulse  to  direct 
his  action. 


'■  Come  to  bre'kf us' ! "  called  Samson. 


78  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

In  ;i  future  chapter  I  shall  reeoi-d  all  of  Mr.  Marvin's  rules  of  shooting,  in 
simple  anil  direct  language,  and  every  young  hunter  Avill  find  them  of  value 
to  him. 

Let  us  now,  however,  witness  the  last  quail-shooting  of  our  friends  in  the 
Georgia  valley. 

A  slight  drizzling  rain  had  fallen  all  through  the  night,  l)ut  the  sun  came  up 
clear  and  strong,  and  the  air  was  all  the  sweeter  from  the  dampness  that  hung 
on  the  woods  and  fields.  The  distant  mountain  knobs  and  peaks  were  as  blue 
as  indigo  ;  the  fields  of  corn-stalks  shone  like  gold. 

"  Now  for  our  farewell  hunt,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  as  he  loosed  his  dogs  and 
took  his  fine  gun  from  its  cover. 

Neil  looked  out  over  the  valley  and  wished  that  he  could  paint  well  enough 
to  sketch  the  scene  in  colors  just  as  it  then  appeared.  He  found  this  ambition 
to  be  an  artist  growing  upon  him.  He  was  all  the  time  studying  objects  and 
landscapes  with  a  view  to  their  picturesque  effect  or  pictorial  values.  He 
carried  about  with  him  a  small  manual  on  free-hand  sketching  from  nature, 
which  he  had  almost  worn  out  by  constant  studying.  But  he  was  also  a 
close  observer  of  all  that  went  on  around  him,  whether  among  the  plants  and 
trees,  the  birds,  or  the  people  of  the  region.  The  memoranda  in  his  note-book 
were  as  various  as  the  phases  of  nature ;  and  while  an  artist  might  have  laughed 
at  his  sketches,  they  were,  after  all,  not  so  bad. 

Quails  were  easily  found  that  day.  Our  friends  had  not  been  out  half  an 
hour  before  their  guns  began  to  boom  in  every  direction.  Hugh,  as  usual,  was 
excited  and  carried  aAvay  with  the  thrilling  sport,  and  banged  away  at  every 
feather  that  stirred.  He  seemed  to  act  on  the  principle  that  as  the  game  was 
plentiful  it  did  not  matter  how  often  he  missed,  and  that  if  only  he  kept  up  his 
firing,  some  of  his  shot  would  be  sure  to  hit. 

A  very  large  bevy  of  quails  was  found  in  a  field  of  what  the  North  Georgia 
farmers  call  "  crab-grass,"  which  was  about  knee-high  and  very  thick.  The 
birds  were  scattered  and  began  to  rise  one  at  a  time.  Neil,  Hugh,  and  Judge 
were  near  each  other.  The  first  shot  fell  to  Hugh,  who  knocked  over  his  bird 
in  fine  style,  handling  his  gun  like  an  old  sportsman.  Judge's  turn  came  next, 
and  it  made  the  others  laugh  to  hear  the  funny  "  click-floo-bang  "  of  his  rickety 
old  flint-lock.  The  "  click"  was  when  the  flint  struck  the  face  of  the  steel,  the 
*'  floo  "  was  the  flash  of  the  priming  on  the  pan,  and  the  "bang"  was  the  gun's 
report.  Each  sound  was  separate  and  distinct.  But  Judge  l)rought  down  his 
quail,  all  the  same.  Neil  tried  foi-  a  d()ul)le,  and  (a  record  not  usual  with  him) 
missed  with  both  barrels. 

The  game  was  now  rising  at  almost  every  step  and  the  shooting  became  fast 
and  furious.  Judge  was  not  having  a  fair  chance,  for,  of  course,  his  gun  being 
single-barreled  and  muzzle-loading,  he  had  to  stop  and  go  through  the  tedious 
process  of  loading  every  time  he  fired;  whereas  Hugh  and  Neil  had  nothing  to 


MARVIN  AND  HIS  HOY  llUNTEltS. 


79 


do  but  press  a  spring,  open  the  breech,  and  slip  in  the  sliells  ready  h)aded  and 
capped.  But  it  was  astonishing  to  see  how  rapidly  the  young  negro  got 
powder,  wads,  and  shot  down  that  dingy  old  barrel,  and  how  nimbly  he  glided 
about  in  search  of  birds. 

Neil  seemed  in  bad  luck  somehow,  his  birds  always  presenting  difficult  shots, 


A  hapjn   (lu.ul  taiiiih 

and  he  missed  quite  often.  This  discouraged  him  not  a  little,  and  whenever  a 
shooter  loses  self-reliance,  his  chance  for  any  brilliant  display  of  marksnumship 
is  entirely  gone. 

Hugh  was  in  the  highest  state  of  exhilaration.  He  was  successful  Avilli 
almost  every  shot,  aiul  his  self-confidence  was  perfect.  Two  or  three  times  he 
had  sent  his  shot  dangerously  near  Neil  or  Judge  in  the  hurry  and  activity  of 
his  exercise.  He  had  killed  more  game  than  Neil,  and  the  latter  was  strenuously 
endeavoring  to  retrieve  his  lost  luck. 

They  had  now  driven  the  scattered  remnant  of  the  bevy  of  quails  across 
the   field   to   a  fence-row   grown   up  with    sassafras  bushes   and  persimmon 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


saplings.     Hugh  was  ou  one  side  of  this  fence  and  Neil   and    Judge  were  on 
the  other  side. 

The  birds  had  become  quite  wild,  so  that  they  were  rising  at  longer  range 
than  usual,  and  whii-ring  away  with  all  the  speed  their  wings  could  give.  Neil 
killed  two  or  three  in  fine  style,  and  began  to  regain  his  nerve.  At  length,  two 
rose  together,  one  going  up  the  fence  to  his  left,  the  -other  going  down  the 
fence  to  his  right.  He  killed  the  first  with  a  shot  from  his  right  l)arrel,  and 
turning  quickly,  covered  the  other  and  fired  his  left.  As  he  pressed  the  trigger 
for  his  second  shot,  he  saw  too  late  that 
Judge  was  nearly  in  line.     He  tried  to  stop, 

but  the  gun  would  fire.     Boom!  I'^'^        "V        '     -^  jj^-^ 

Oh,  massy!    Goodness!     Oh,  I'skiUed!     |jj         \/ \l7r^ 


k^Mitrnf- 


V    v\ 


'  Oh,  Massy  !    Oh.  I  's  killed  ! " 


I's  killed!  Oo!  Ohee!  Oh,  me  !  Oh,  me  ! "  and  Judge  fell  upon  the  ground 
and  began  to  roll  over  and  over.  His  wild  screams  could  be  heard  at  a  long 
distance  from  the  spot. 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  heard  him,  ami  ran  with  all  their  might, 
reaching  the  place  quite  out  of  l)reath  and  greatly  frightened. 

"What  in  the  world  is  the  matter?"  exclaimed  Uncle  Charley,  in  a  half- 
stifled  voice. 


MAh'VIX  AXJ)   JUS  r.oY  JirXTEIiS.  81 

Neil  and  Hugh  were  l)t'ii(liiii;-  over  Judge,  who  was  still  i-<»lliiig  over  aud  over 
ill  an  ag-ouy  of  fright. 

Mr.  Marvin  pushed  the  boys  aside  and  began  to  examine  the  wounded  negro. 

'*  This  is  more  of  your  miserable  work,  Hugh,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  turning 
his  agitated  face  toward  his  younger  nephew.  "  I  've  been  afraid  of  something 
of  the  kind ;  you  're  so  heedless  aud  wild,  you " 

''  It  was  n't  Hugh,"  quickly  exclaimed  Neil ;  "  1  did  it !  " 

''You,  Neil?  You?"  That  was  all  Uncle  Charley  could  say.  He  stood 
stupefied  with  amazement.  The  idea  that  Neil  could  have  acted  so  recklessly 
seemed  too  strange  to  be  true. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Marvin  had  stripped  off  some  of  Judge's  clothes  and  was 
examining  the  wounds  more  carefully  to  see  if  any  help  would  be  needed.  He 
was  relieved  to  find  no  very  dangerous  wounds.  But  Judge  continued  his 
screaming,  loudly  declaring  that  he  w'as  already  dead. 

Neil  and  Hugh  stood  mournfully  looking  on,  their  hearts  heavy  with  dread. 

It  was  with  much  difficulty  that  IMr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  kept  Judge 
still  enough  for  a  bandage,  made  of  a  handkerchief,  to  be  put  around  his  arm 
where  the  wound  that  was  bleeding  most  freely  was  located. 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I  do  ! ''  cried  Neil,  wringing  his  hands  and 
gazing  blankly  at  Hugh. 

"  Yon  did  n't  mean  to  do  it,"  said  Hugh,  in  a  voice  meant  to  be  consoling ;  but 
his  whitened  face  and  purple  lips  told  how  intensely  excited  he  was. 

"  Oh,  1 11  die,  I  '11  die  !  I  want  ter  see  nuimmy  —  take  me  to  mammy  !  "  bawled 
Judge. 

"He's  going  to  —  to — die  !"  Neil  huskily  murmured,  in  an  agony  of  appre- 
hension, and  leaning  on  his  empty  gun  for  support. 

Hugh  was  leaning  on  his  gun  also. 

Uncle  Charley  looked  up,  and  exclaimed  inquiringly  : 

''  Boys,  are  those  guns  loaded  ? "' 

''Mine  is,"  said  Hugh,  quickly  lifting  it  and  slipping  oiit  the  shells.  Both 
hammers  were  cocked  and  both  barrels  loaded ! 

Then  it  was  that,  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  the  boys  saAV  good,  kind- 
hearted  Uncle  Charley  lose  his  temper.     His  face  grew^  very  red. 

"  You  boys  must  be  little  better  than  idiots ! "  he  cried,  looking  ahnost 
furiously  back  aud  forth  from  one  to  the  other.  ''  You  are  resolved,  it  seems, 
to  kill  yourselves  and  everybody  else  !  " 

Then  he  turned  upon  Judge,  who  was  still  screaming  and  tuinl)ling  around, 
and  rapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  said  shar])ly : 

•'  Now,  Judge,  be  quiet,  instantly  !  " 

Judge  ceased  his  cries  at  once  and  became  perfectly  quiet.     Mr.  Marvin  was 
seen  to  smile  grimly  in  the  midst  of  his  surgical  work.    When  the  bandage  had 
been  well  adjusted  and  Judge's  body  carefully  examined,  Uncle  Charley  said : 
6 


82  JiOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

"Get  up,  now,  and  put  on  your  ('(tat." 

"I  —  I  (lid  n'  want  ter  be  killed,  nohow."  soltbcd  .Tud<?e,  as  he  scrambled  to 
his  feet. 

By  great  good  fortune,  liis  hurts  were  not  serious.  Five  of  the  shot  had  struck 
him  —  two  in  the  left  arm,  one  in  the  shoulder,  one  in  the  neck,  and  one  in  the 
breast.  These  had  been  mere  scattering  pellets  on  the  outer  rim  of  Neil's  load, 
as  Judge  had  not  been  directly  in  range. 

It  was  a  relief  to  all  concerned  when  the  true  state  of  the  wounds  became 
known  ;  but  Neil  and  Hugh  hung  their  heads  and  pondered  deeply.  The  lesson 
of  so  grave  an  accident  was  impressing  itself  upon  their  minds.  How  terrible 
it  would  have  been  if  Judge  had  been  killed ! 


XVII. 


NEIL  GOES   INTO  A  DEN. 


JUDGE  was  a  very  sore  boy  for  several  days,  and  had  to  take  good  care 
of  himself,  in  order  to  prevent  his  wounds  from  inflaming  and  making 
him  sick.     This  delayed  the  departure  from  the  vaUey  for  nearly  a  week. 

In  the  meantime,  a  disagreeable  wind  and 
rain  came  on,  making  it  very  uncomfortable 
to  be  out-of-doors.  Neil  brooded  over  his 
mishap  a  great  deal.  He  felt  as  if  he  had  been 
guilty  of  a  great  crime.  He  had  been  so  sure 
of  his  own  ability  to  avoid  all  accidents  that  it 
made  his  signal  mistake  doubly  inexcusable  to 
himself.  Hugh  was  gloomy,  too,  so  that,  from 
the  sad  weather  and  a  lack  of  cheerful  conver- 
sation, the  camp  was  a  stupid  place  for  a  while. 
But  when  the  clouds  blew  away  at  last,  and 
the  sun  filled  the  valley  with  golden  light. 
Uncle  Charley  gave  orders  to  strike  the  tents 
and  make  ready  for  moving.  Judge  declared 
that  "■  de  soreness  mos'  all  gone  out  o'  dem  shot- 
holes,''  and  everybody  grew  lighter-hearted 
'^'''^  ^"'■^'■^-  with  the  l)rightening  of  the  weather. 

Nothing  of  any  especial  interest  happened  on  their  way  back  to  Uncle  Charley's 
farm  in  Tennessee,  until  they  had  reached  a  deep  hollow  on  the  northern  slope  of 
the  mountain,  where  they  saw  a  fine  flock  of  wild  turkeys  run  into  a  thick  wood 


MAliVIX  A.\JJ    Ills   JIOV  JIf'XTKl:S.  83 

«0!iic  two  or  three  hundred  yards  ahead  of  them.  This  i-tiiiiiid»'d  tlinu  that  the 
next  day  wouhl  be  Thanksii-ivinu-  Day,  and  a  roast  turkey  would  hi-  just  the 
thing  for  their  Thanksgiving  diiiiuM-. 

Samson  and  Judge  were  left  to  drive  the  wagons,  while  the  rest  turned  out 
with  their  guns  to  give  chase  to  the  game. 

Neil  and  Hugh  were  very  eager  to  add  turkeys  to  their  list  of  game.  ^\r. 
Mar\dn  saw  theii-  haste  and  stopped  them  to  speak  a  few  sharp  words  of  warn- 
ing and  ad\'ice.     Neil's  face  flushed,  and  he  promptly  said : 

''  You  can  rely  on  me,  Mr.  Marvin  ;  I  shall  never  be  careless  again." 

Hugh  promised,  also,  and  they  all  went  rapidly  and  noiselessly  into  the  wood. 

The  boys,  who  were  walking  side  l)y  side,  chanced  to  come  upon  the  flock  at 
the  head  of  a  short,  deep  ravine,  from  which  issued  a  clear,  cold  mountain 
spring.  The  birds  were  fifty  yards  away,  giving  but  a  poor  opportunity  for  a 
successful  shot ;  but  each  of  the  boys  fired  right  ami  left,  and  one  big  "  gobbler" 
fell,  tumbling  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  ravine,  where  they  heard  him  splash 
the  water  of  the  spring  stream. 

Neil  and  Hugh  ran  to  secure  their  game,  but  on  reaching  the  edge  of  the 
ravine  they  found  its  sides  so  steep  that  descent  into  it  seemed  impossible.  They 
could  look  down  and  see  the  big  black  bird  lying  on  its  back  in  the  shallow 
stream. 

Some  small  trees  grew  in  the  roiigh  soil  ou  the  jaws  of  the  ra\'ine ;  below 
them  there  was  an  almost  vertical  fall  of  damp  and  dripping  rock  for  a  distance 
of  nearly  thirty  feet. 

Neil  began  to  look  around  for  some  means  of  descent.  He  could  not  bear  the 
idea  of  leaving  such  noble  game  lying  where  it  fell.  A  little  distance  from 
where  they  stood  there  w-as  a  place  where  a  huge  piece  of  the  rocky  bluff  had 
dropped  oiit  many  years  ago.  This  had  formed  a  sort  of  projection  some  fifteen 
feet  below  the  verge  of  the  precipice,  and  out  of  it  grew  a  gnarled  cedar-tree, 
whose  top  came  above  the  plateau  upon  which  the  boys  were  standing. 

Neil  handed  his  gun  to  Hugh,  and  seizing  a  limb  of  the  cedar-tree,  swung 
himself  to  its  body,  and  then  climl^ed  down  to  the  projection.  This  was  quite 
easy,  but  he  found  himself  still  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  above  the  bottom  of  the 
dusky  and  chilly  ra\-ine.  From  this  point  however,  the  descent  of  the  rocky 
side  was  somewhat  slanting,  and  so  he  easily  slid  down  without  accident.  The 
air  was  damp  and  of  disagreeable  odor,  and  Neil  liurried  to  get  the  turkey, 
which  he  found  to  be  a  very  large  one,  weighing,  he  thought,  nearly  twenty 
pounds.  He  picked  it  up,  and  started  to  climb  out.  Now,  with  a  sudden  sink- 
ing of  the  heart,  he  discovered  that  he  could  not  go  up  that  steep  incline,  down 
which  he  had  slipped  with  so  little  difficulty.  He  could  not  make  a  single  step 
upward  on  the  damp,  slippery  surface  of  the  slanting  stone.  He  let  the  turkey 
fall  and  called  to  Hugh.  No  answer  came.  This  frightened  him.  Could  it  be 
that  his  brother  had  gone  away  ?     He  called  again  as  loudly  as  ho  could.     Not 


84  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

a  sound  came  back  in  response.  Somewhere,  far  away,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  he 
heard  the  report  of  a  gun.  He  ran  ah)ng  the  spring  stream  a  short  distance  to 
see  if  there  was  any  availalile  outlet  to  the  ravine,  hut  the  water  soon  lost  itself 
bv  flowing  into  a  iissui-e  of  a  stone  wall  which  some  convulsiim  of  nature  long 
ago  had  thrown  across  the  way. 

Here  was  a  situation  that  would  have  daunted  a  stronger  heart  than  Xeil's ; 
but,  much  to  his  credit,  the  boy  kept  quite  calm.  He  at  once  felt  that  his 
escape  depended  on  the  practical  application  of  his  common  sense.  If  he  should 
give  way  to  fright,  he  could  not  hope  to  get  out.  He  searched  in  every  direction 
for  a  tree  that  he  could  use  for  a  ladder,  but  there  was  none. 

"  Surely,"  thought  he,  "  there  must  be  some  way  out." 

As  he  was  walking  along  near  the  wall  of  one  side  of  the  guleh,  his  eyes 
chanced  to  fall  upon  the  track  of  a  large  animal's  foot  in  the  soft  clay.  Neil 
knew  in  a  moment  that  it  was  a  bear-track.  It  was  larger  than  his  hand  and 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  made  quite  recently.  The  animal  had  been  walking  along 
close  to  the  base  of  the  cliff,  and  there  were  two  or  three  places  where  it  had  dug 
the  dirt  out  of  the  crevices  in  the  rock,  as  if  hunting  for  food  or  a  good  spot  for 
a  lair.  But  Neil  was  much  more  interested  in  getting  out  of  that  gloomy  place 
than  he  was  in  studying  bear-tracks.  He  hallooed  to  Hugh  again  and  again 
without  getting  any  answer.  Suddenly  the  thought  came  to  him  that  Hugh 
had  run  after  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin  to  get  them  to  come  and  help  him 

out. 

"  Of  course  that 's  it,"  he  thought ;  and  then  he  grew  very  much  calmer.  It 
could  not  be  long  l)efore  they  would  come  to  look  for  him,  in  any  event.  He 
would  have  felt  much  better  if  he  only  had  his  gun,  but  he  tried  to  make  the 
best  of  his  situation  by  a  careful  search  for  some  means  of  getting  out  without 
waiting  to  be  helped  by  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin.  It  annoyed  him  to 
think  that  here  was  another  ugly  result  of  his  want  of  prudence,  after  all  that 
had  happened  and  after  all  his  good  resolves.  As  he  wandered  around,  climbing 
over  fragments  of  stone  and  through  tangles  of  scruliby  cedars,  he  found  a  sort 
of  zigzag  slender  path,  that  ai)peared  to  lead  right  out  of  the  ravine.  His  heart 
gi-ew^  light  in  a  moment. 

He  started  up  the  path,  but  remembering  his  turkey,  he  went  back  and  picked 
it  up.  The  ascent  was  very  difficult,  but  Neil  was  a  good  climber,  and  his  desire 
to  make  his  way  out  without  help  whetted  his  energy.  He  crawled  rather  than 
walked  up  the  angular  path,  dragging  the  turkey  after  him.  Some  distance 
from  the  bottom  -of  the  ravine,  at  a  point  where  the  path  crossed  a  sandy  ledge, 
Neil  saw  the  l)ear's  foot-prints  again,  l)ut  this  time  they  pointed  in  the  direction 
in  which  he  was  going. 

'*  Ah,"  thought  he,  "this  is  Bruin's  jKith.  No  dcmbt  he  came  d(.wn  into  the 
gulch  f(n-  water.  If  only  I  liad  Samson's  dog  to  start  on  the  track  !  He  would 
soon  find  thr  old  f.-llow's  den.'' 


MA  in' IX  A  XI)  HIS  HOY  ihxtkiis. 


85 


A  little  fiirtlicr  u})  he  cuiiu'  to  ;i  pl.-icc  wiifi-c  ;i  pine-tree  liad  tiuiibled  into  the 
ravine  and  lodged  against  a  wild  mass  of  stoues  directly  across  the  path.  At 
first  it  seemed  impossible  to  get  past  this  obstruction ;  but  he  soon  saw  where 
the  path  led  under  the  log  and  over  the  stones.  With  great  difficulty  he  crawled 
along,  creeping  under  and  over  and  around,  as  the  tracks  led.  If  it  had  not 
been  for  the  turkey,  his  progress  would 
have  been  more  rapid.  The  heavy  bird 
tiled  his  arm,  and  the  exertion  of 
diauiiiiiu   it   put   hnn   out  of  bieath 


He  was  resolved  not  to  h  a\  ( 

It,   howx^ver,  no  matter   how 

much  trouble  it  cost  him.  He 

chmbed   to  the    top   of   a   loose 

pile  of  stones  over  which  aA\iId  ih  .n\   ,  im.-    iiuk  mmni 

\  me  had  grown,  and  was  on  the 

point  of  descending  on  the  other  side,  when  a  fragment  of  stone  gave  way 

under  him,  and  he  fell  among  the  vines.    At  the  same  time  a  hollow,  hoarse 

snort  or  growl  reached  his  ears,  and  even  before  he  could  scramble  to  his  feet 

he  saw,  with  consternation,  a  huge  black  animal  sitting  upon  its  haunches  under 

a  shelf  of  rock  not  twentv  feet  awav  from  him. 


8G  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

It  was  a  boar,  and  it  was  eying  him  sava<^t'ly.  To  have  stumbled  nj)on  a 
bear  in  that  lonely  ravine,  and  without  his  gun,  was  not  a  cheering  experience 
to  the  young  hunter,  who  did  not  waste  any  time  examining  old  Bruin's  prem- 
ises. He  only  saw  that  the  place  was  quite  a  comfortable  den,  and  that  Mr. 
Bruin  sat  there  with  half-open  eyes  and  snarling  mouth,  as  if  greatly  vexed  at 
having  been  aroused  from  a  quiet  nap.  And  as  the  bear  effectually  barred  his 
further  progress,  Neil  ran  back  along  the  path  he  had  been  following,  and  at 
last  climbed  a  tree  to  wait  until  help  should  come  to  him. 

He  had  let  go  of  his  turkey  when  he  fell  over  the  stones,  and  he  had  not  taken 
the  trouble  to  pick  it  up  again,  especially  as  it  had  tumbled  down  near  to  the 
bear's  feet, —  nearer  than  Xeil  cared  to  go. 


xvni. 

NEIL   AND    HIS   BEAR. 


TV 


J^HEN  Xeil  handed  his  gun  to  Hugh  and  started  down 
into  the  ravine,  Hugh  saw  a  fox-squirrel  some 
</  distance  away.  Xow  a  fox-squirrel  was  an  animal 
which  Xeil  and  he  had  been  trying  very  hard  to  get 
as  a  specimen  for  their  father's  cabinet  at  home.  But, 
as  yet,  they  had  failed.  He  placed  Xeil's  gun  against 
a  tree  and  went  on  a  long,  raml)ling  chase  after  the 
little  brown-bodied,  black-headed,  Avhite-nosed  animal 
whose  great  bushy  tail  kept  waving  in  the  distance 
ahead  of  him.  He  soon  forgot  Xeil  and  the  turkey, 
and  thought  of  nothing  but  of  how  he  should  manage  to  get  a  shot  at  the 
s(|uiri'el.  After  a  vigorous  and  roundabout  run  through  the  woods,  he  at 
length  saw  his  game  run  u[)  a  low,  gnarled  oak-tree  that  grew  on  a  dry,  stcmy 
ridge. 

"  Xow,"  thought  Hugh,  "  I  shall  get  him  at  last ! " 

But  to  his  chagrin,  the  next  moment,  with  a  guttural  ([uack,  the  scpiirrel  dived 
into  a  hole  in  a  big  knot  about  thirty  feet  from  the  ground. 

Hugh  kept  quite  still  for,  perhaps,  half  an  hour,  watching  the  hole  to  see  if 
tlie  little  animal  would  not  come  out  again  ;  but  it  did  not,  and  he  tnrned  away, 
and  went  immediately  back  to  the  road  where  the  wagons  were  standing. 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  were  already  there  with  two  tui-keys  which 
they  had  killed. 

''Where  's  Xeil  ?"  iiupiired  Mr.  Marvin,  as  Hugh  came  u]\ 


MAJiVIN  AM)   JUS  HOY   IHWTKUS. 


87 


"  Why,  I  left  liiiu  over  youdci-  in  a  ti'ulcli;'  said  Ilunli.     "He  went  dc 
it  to  ^^et  a  turkoy  we  killed,  and  I  went  on  atter  a  fox-squirrel."' 

They  waited  a  long  while,  but  Neil  did  not  come.     Uncle  Charley  w 
camp  for  the  night   beside  a 
spring  some  miles  distant,  and 
there  was  no  time  to  spare. 

"  What  in  the  world  can  be 
keeping  the  boy !  "  exclaimed 
Uncle  Charley  rather  impa- 
tiently, for  he  did  not  like  to 
wait. 

"  If  you'll  go  with  me,  Hii 


iwii  into 
ished  to 


'  How  did  he  Ret  down  into  this  u<jlv 
place  ? "  said  Mr   Mar%  in. 

we  '11  see  if  we  can  find  him,"  said  Mr. 
Marvin.  *'  Show  me  the  way  to  the  place 
where  you  kilhnl  your  turkey." 

Hugh  readily  assented,  and  they  walked 

ra])idiy  to  the  ravine.     ''  Here  's  his  gun," 

said  Hugh ;  ''  he  has  n't  come  out  yet." 

"Why,  how  did  he  ever  get  down  into  this  ngly  place?"  (pieried  IMr.  Marvin. 

'a  — I  — I  don't  know;  I  ran  after  the  squirrel  and  did  n't  watch  him,"  said 

Hugh,  going  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff  and  gaziug  down. 


88  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

:Slv.  :M;n-viii  now  called  Neil  in  a  lond  voice.  Almost  immediately  an  answer 
came,  as  if  from  some  point  midway  between  them  and  the  })Ottom  of  the 
ravine. 

''  Is  that  yon,  Mr.  Marvin  ? " 

''Yes;  wiiat  are  you  doing?"  replied  Mr.  Marvin. 

"  I  'm  np  in  a  tree.  There 's  a  bear  down  here.  I  'm  afraid  to  climl)  down." 
It  was  Neil's  voice,  but  it  sounded  unnaturally.  The  poor  boy  had  grown  weary 
of  waiting  for  them. 

"  What  kind  of  a  bear  is  it  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Marvin,  in  a  doubting  tone. 
"  Why,  it 's  a  black  bear,  and  a  big  one,  too,"  cried  Neil,  emphatically.     "  I  ran 
almost  against  it,  and  it  growled  and  snarled  at  me.     Have  you  your  gun  ?  " 
"  Yes,  my  Winchester  rifle ;  but  how  can  I  get  down  there? " 
"  I  don't  know,  and  I  can't  imagine  how  I  am  going  to  get  out,  either." 
"Well,  stay  where  you  are  for  a  while,  and  I  '11  see  what  can  be  done.     Are 
you  really  sure  you  saw  a  bear  f  " 

''  I  tell  you  I  I'How  I  did,"  answered  Neil,  positively.    "  It 's  right  down  here  in 
its  den  now.     If  you  '11  come  down,  I  '11  show  it  to  you." 
Mr.  Marvin  turned  to  Hugh  and  said  : 

''  Go  back  and  tell  your  uncle  to  come,  and  to  bring  all  the  rope  that  there  is 
in  the  wagons.  Be  quick,  now,  and  don't  forget  to  tell  him  to  fetch  his  rifle, 
too." 

Hugh  ran  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him. 

Mr.  Marvin's  practiced  eye  had  taken  in  the  situation  almost  at  a  single 
glance.  He  saw  that  he  must  have  a  rope  with  which  to  lower  himself  into  the 
bed  of  the  ravine. 

"  You  are  sure  it  was  not  a  stray  hog  you  saw,  instead  of  a  bear  ? ''  he  called 
to  Neil. 

"  Sure ! "  cried  Neil,  "  did  n't  I  see  its  tracks  first,  just  like  enormous  'coon 
tra(?ks,  and  then  did  n't  I  see  the  bear  itself,  sitting  on  its  haunches  and  growl- 
ing at  me  !  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Marvin,  it 's  a  bear  and  no  mistake." 

In  a  very  short  time.  Uncle  Charley  ar.d  Hugh  came  with  their  guns  and  the 
ropes. 

"  What 's  up  now  ?  demanded  Uncle  Charley. 

"  Nothing  up,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "  but  something  down.  Neil  is  in  the  ravine, 
and  a  bear  has  treed  him,  I  guess." 

The  situation  was  soon  explained  to  Uncle  Charley,  and  it  was  decided  that 
Mr.  Marvin  should  l)e  lowered  into  the  ravine. 

Two  or  three  of  the  long,  strong  ropes  used  for  tethering  the  horses  were  tied 
together,  and  one  end  having  been  securely  fastened  to  a  tree  at  the  edge  of  the 
cliff,  the  other  end  was  flung  below.  Mr.  :Marvin  then  swung  his  gun  on  his 
back,  and  taking  hold  of  the  rope,  climbed  down  without  trouble  by  pressing 
his  feet  against  the  face  of  the  rock. 


Head  of  the  black  bear. 


90  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

"  Where  are  you,  Neil  .' ""  lie  cried  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  ground. 

"  Here  !  "  answered  Neil,  rapidly  descending  from  his  perch  in  a  little  tree. 
He  was  looking  rather  haggard  and  pale. 

"  Well,  w^hcre  is  your  hear?"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm  in  his 
tone. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Marvin,  you  are  making  fun  of  rae,"'  said  Neil,  in  a  half -resentful 
tone,  "  but  come  with  me  and  I  '11  show  you."  Saying  this,  he  led  the  way  to 
the  bear-tracks. 

"  Look  there  !  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  "  he  asked,  pointing  them  out  to 
Mr.  Marvin,  who  examined  them  carefully. 

"They  are  genuine  bear-tracks,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "and  fresh  ones,  too. 
Where  did  you  see  the  bear  himself  ?  " 

'^  Up  yonder,  farther,"  said  Neil,  pointing  with  his  finger ;  "  but  I  want  my 
gun  before  I  go." 

Mr.  Marvin  now  began  to  have  some  faith  in  the  bear  story,  and  he  said  they 
would  go  back  and  have  Neil's  gun  lowered  to  him  by  the  rope.  This  was  done 
in  a  few  moments,  and  at  Neil's  suggestion  Uncle  Charley  and  Hugh  went 
round  the  head  of  the  ravine  to  the  other  side  and  stationed  themselves  near  the 
place  where  they  supposed  the  bear  might  come  out  of  the  hollow. 

''  Now,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  as  Neil  loaded  his  gun  with  shells  of  heavy  shot, 
''  let 's  find  your  bear  in  short  order  ;  there 's  no  time  to  lose." 

"  Well,  come  on,"  said  Neil,  leading  the  way. 

They  soon  reached  the  little  crooked  path.  Mr.  Marvin  scrutinized  this  very 
closely  before  starting  to  follow  it.  The  rough,  \dne-covered  heap  of  stones  and 
the  fallen  tree  were  just  visible.  Neil  pointed  them  out  to  Mr.  Marvin  and  said, 
almost  in  a  whisper  : 

"  The  bear  is  right  over  on  the  other  side  of  those  stones  under  the  edge  of  a 
projecting  part  of  the  cliff.     He 's  a  big  one,  too  ! " 

Mr.  Marvin  started  up  the  path  and  Neil  followed  him  closely.  Their 
progress  was  slow,  owing  to  the  steepness  and  narrowness  of  the  way,  but  the 
distance  was  so  short  that  they  soon  reached  the  pile  of  stones.  Mr.  Marvin 
noiselessly  climbed  up  and  peeped  over.     Neil  was  by  his  side  in  a  moment. 

The  bear  was  now  standing  on  its  haunches,  with  its  fore-feet  lifted  off 
the  ground.  It  really  was  a  monster  in  size,  and  appeared  to  be  ready  for  a 
fight. 

''  Aim  at  his  l)reast,  Neil ! "  Mr.  Marvin  rni)idly  muttered. 

The  next  instant  the  ravine  shook  with  the  reports  of  their  guns.  The  bear 
was  hit,  l)ut  it  did  not  fall,  nor  did  it  attack,  as  Mr.  Marvin  had  feared  it  might, 
l)ut  ran,  rather  nim})ly  for  so  large  an  animal,  up  a  ledge  of  the  blutf  a  little  to 
one  side  of  its  den. 

'-'  Look  out  above ! "  yelled  Mr.  Marvin.     "  Bear  coming !  " 

'^  All  right,  let  him  come !  "  rang  out  Uncle  Charley's  clear  voice. 


MAliVIN  AND   Ills  BOY  JKWTEh'S.  91 

Scarcely  had  the  words  been  spoken,  when  "  bang- "  went  his  <.nui  and  Hugh's. 
Uncle  Charley  fired  his  rifle  three  times,  Hug-h  shot  twice. 

"  Dead  bear  ! ''  shouted  Uncle  Charley.     "  Come  on  ! " 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Neil  discovered  that  there  was  an  easy  and  well-defined  ])atli 
out  of  the  den,  following-  which  they  soon  emerged  from  the  gulch  and  found 
themselves  where  Uncle  Charley  and  Hugh  were  standing  by  the  dead  bear. 

••  He  ran  right  at  ns !"  cried  Hugh,  excitedly.  "  We  did  n't  have  much  time, 
I  tell  you !     Is  n't  he  a  big  one  f " 

Xeii  was  too 'much  out  of  breath  to  speak.  He  stoi)ped  and  gazed  at  the  huge 
animal  and  felt  truly  thankful  that  he  had  escaped  from  its  terril)le  elaws. 

"  But  where  's  your  turkey,  Neil?"  asked  Hugh. 

''  Why,  I  forgot  it,"  said  Neil,  ''it's  down  there  in  the  bear's  den,  I  suppose." 

Uncle  Charley  went  with  them  into  the  bear's  den,  where  they  found  the 
turkey  lying  upon  the  bones  of  some  small  animals  that  the  bear  had  eaten. 

"  It's  a  wonder  he  had  n't  made  a  luncheon  of  the  turkey,"  said  Hugh. 

''  He  was  n't  hungry,  perhaps,"  said  Uncle  Charley. 

When  Mr.  Marvin  had  finished  skinning  the  bear  he  hung  the  hide  and  hams 
across  a  long  pole  so  that  he  and  Uncle  Charley  could  carry  them  to  the 
wagons. 

Samson  and  Judge  opened  their  eyes  very  wide  when  they  heai'd  the  story  of 
Neil's  adventure. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  they  reached  the  camping-place  and  they  were  all 
too  tired  and  sleepy  to  talk  much.  The  follow-ing  day  they  reached  Uncle 
Charley's  house  in  time  for  supper. 

Samson  and  Judge  got  all  the  negroes  of  the  place  arcmnd  them  and  enter- 
tained them  with  highly  colored  accounts  of  the  trip. 


XIX. 

GETTING   READY   FOR   FLORIDA. 


u 


'X'^CLE  CHARLEY  and  Mr.  Marvin  spent  the  next  two  weeks  in  drilling 
_  the  l)oys  in  the  practice  of  wing-shooting ;  for,  though  Xeil  and  Hugh  had 
made  great' progress  in  the  method  of  handling  their  guns,  they  had,  as  yet, 
scarcely  learned  the  "A-B-C"of  the  theory  and  art  of  shooting.  They  had 
fallen  into  some  faults,  too,  during  the  trip,  and  these  were  a  great  deal  harder 
to  get  rid  of  than  they  had  been  to  acquire. 

During  these  two  weeks,  the  following  was  the  order  of  affairs  each  day : 
They  arose  in  the  morning  in  time  for  breakfast  at  six  o'clock  ;  after  breakfast 


92 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SFOBTS. 


tlu'V  liad  a  drill  in  sliootiug  till  ten  ;  then  came  two  liours  of  study  for  the  boys, 
while  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Marvin  rode  over  the  plantation ;  dinner  was 
served  at  one  and  lasted  an  hour,  after  which  the  boys  were  free  for  two  hours  ; 
then  came  another  hour  of  careful  drill,  followed  by  a  light  supper ;  then  two 
hours  of  chatting  or  reading,  and  to  bed  at  eight. 

Mr.  Marvin's  method  of  drilling  the  boys  was  so  simple  that  any  one  can 
follow  it  with  very  little  trouble.  He  made  a  spring-trap  of  a  flexible,  elastic 
piece  of  w^ood,  four  feet  long  and  three  inches  wide  by  a  half  inch  thick,  which 
he  fastened  at  one  end  securely  to  a  thick  board,  its  middle  resting  firmly  on  a 
cleat,  at  an  angle  of  about  thirty  degrees.  Upon  the  upper  or  free  end  of  this 
spring-piece  he  fastened  a  tin  blacking-box,  hollow  side  up.  A  notched  trigger 
was  fixed  by  a  hinge  to  the  l)oard  in  such  a  way  that,  when  the  spring  was  bent 
downward  over  the  cleat,  the  notch  could  l)e  made  to  hold  it  in  that  position 
until  it  was  released  by  pulling  a  long  cord  attached  to  the  top  end  of  the 
trigger.     This  trap  was  used  as  follows  : 

The  elastic  piece  was  bent  down  and  made  fast  by  the  notch  in  the  trigger. 
Any  small  object  upon  which  shot  would  take  effect  was  then  placed  in  the  ])0x. 
The  pulling-string  being  sixty  feet  long,  when  all  was  ready,  the  shooter  stood 
eighteen  yards  from  the  trap,  while  the  puller  took  up  his  position  a  little 
behind  and  to  one  side  of  him.  When  the  shooter  was  ready,  he  said  : "  Pull ! " 
and  instantly  the  puller  gently  drew  the  string,  which  released  the  "  l)ender  "  of 

the  trap,  and  the  small  potato  or  block  of 
wood,  or  whatever  formed  the  target  was 
thrown  into  the  air,  and  shot  at  before  it 
fell. 

The  wide  board,  which  formed  the  base 
of  the  trap,  was  fastened  firmly  to  the 
ground,  by  driving  long  stakes  through 
holes  made  in  it  for  the  purpose. 

Trai)S  with  steel  springs,  and  hollow  glass 
balls  for  targets,  can  be  had  of  dealers  in 
sportsmen's  goods ;  but  they  are  quite  ex- 
pensive, and  Mr.  Marvin's  arrangement  is 
just  as  good. 

Neil  and  Hugh  at  first  shot  with  a  single 
trap ;  then  two  were  used  for  practicing 
at  double  wing-shooting.  Sometimes  Mr. 
turn  their  backs  to  the  trap,  with  directions  to 
wheel  about  and  fire,  at  the  word  *'  pull."  This  drill  was  interspersed  Avith 
some  pleasant  talk  on  shooting  and  on  the  habits  of  game-birds.  Mr.  Marvin 
liimself  sometimes  took  a  gun  and  performed  sonu'  (piite  wondei-ful  feats  of 
nuirksmanship.     For  instaiu:;e,  Avith  his  rifle  he  hit  a  potato   twice  before  it 


Mar 


At  tho  traps. 

uld    have  them 


MAKVIX  AX  J)  JUS  HOY  IIUNTEBS.  93 

could  fall  from  the  height  of  fifteen  feet  when  thrown  into  the  air.  But  the 
main  thing'  that  he  sought  to  teach  the  boys  was  the  habit  of  aiming  correctly 
and  of  handling  their  guns  cai-efully.  Their  next  trip  was  to  be  a  long  one,  in 
which  Neil  and  Hugh  would  necessarily  have  to  depend  largely  upon  them- 
selves, and  it  was  Mr.  Marvin's  desire  to  have  them  so  trained  that  no  accident 
need  be  feared. 

Uncle  Charley  liad  written  to  an  old  luinting  fi-inid  wlio  live<i  on  tlie  Gulf 
coast  of  Florida,  to  hire  him  a  good  stanch  boat  large  enough  for  the  whole 
party  and  their  luggage,  camp  equipage,  dogs,  et  cctcrn.  The  plan  was  to  coast 
from  St.  Mark's  to  some  point  on  the  lower  part  of  the  Florida  peninsula,  stop- 
ping wherever  they  pleased  to  go  into  camp  and  hunt;  Mr.  Marvin's  object 
being  to  collect  plumes  for  the  market,  and  bii-d-skins  and  rare  speeinieiis  of 
any  kind  for  the  Smithsonian  Institute. 

Such  an  expedition  recpiired  a  great  deal  of  preparation  and  forethought. 
Every  need  had  to  be  anticipated  and  every  exigency  guarded  against  as  fully 
as  possible.     This  kept  Uncle  Charley  l)usy. 

The  thought  of  going  away  down  to  the  haunts  of  the  heron,  the  golden 
plover,  the  ibis,  the  spoon-bill,  the  crying-bird,  the  snake-bird,  the  alligator,  and 
the  panther,  of  seeing  the  orange  groves,  the  palm-trees,  the  wild  semi-tropical 
jungles,  the  mangrove  islands,  and  the  dreamy  lagoons,  and  of  coasting  along 
the  border  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  under  the  fair  Southern  skv,  so  charmed  the 
boys  that  they  could  scarcely  sleep  or  eat. 

Samson  said  he  did  not  care  about  going  ''  down  to  dem  yallergator  swamps,"^ 
and  he  '^  reckon'd  he  'd  stay  at  home  "  ;  but  Judge  wished  to  go  where^-er  Neil 
and  Hugh  went,  even  if  there  was  danger. 

Neil  sent  for  a  new  sketch-book  and  a  diary,  a  supply  of  pencils  and  water- 
colors,  and  a  hand-book  of  botanical  drawing.  He  was  resolved  to  spend  more 
time  than  formerly  in  sketching;  for  it  surprised  him  now  to  find  how  well 
some  of  his  sketches  looked. 

''I  shall  get  all  the  benefit  I  can  out  of  my  excursions,'' he  said  to  Hugh. 
"  It  may  be  that  the  knowledge  I  gain  in  this  way  will  sometime  b(^  of  great 
use  to  me." 

''  Of  course  it  will,"  responded  Hugh.  "  I  wish  I  could  draw  and  paint,  and 
be  industrious,  too,  but  I  can't.  You  're  more  intellectual  than  I  am,  I  guess. 
I  heard  Uncle  Charley  say  you  were,  anyway.'' 

Before  they  started  South,  Mr.  Marvin  stuffed  and  mounted  the  .«jkin  of  the 
owl  Hugh  had  killed.  It  was  a  handsome  bird,  with  perfe(;t  plumage,  and  its 
eyes  were  as  natural  as  life.    Hugh  expressed  it  to  his  father  as  a  Christmas  gift. 

It  pleased  the  boys  greatly  when  they  saw  an  account  of  their  bear  adventure, 
filling  almost  a  column  of  their  home  paper.  The  Belah'  Biujle.  A  reporter  had 
obtained  the  particulars  by  interviewing  their  father,  and  had  then  dressed 
them  up  until  the  affair  really  had  the  ring  of  a  thrilling  encounter. 


94 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


'•  What  will  Tom  Dale  and  the  rest  of  the  boys  think  of  that  ? "  exclaimed 
Hugh  delightedly.     "Wont  they  wish  they  were  along  with  us?'' 

'•  What  will  they  say  when  they  see  that  same  bear's  skin  iised  liy  papa  for 
a  lap-rug  in  his  sleigh  ?  "  said  Xeil.  "  That  '11  prove  to  them  that  the  story  is 
true." 

"  I  mean  to  send  papa  a  panther's  skin  from  Florida,"  said  Hugh. 

''  And  a  fine  collection  of  alligators'  teeth,"  added  Neil. 

"  And  I  '11  kill  a  roseate  spoon-bill  and  get  Mr.  Marvin  to  mount  it,  as  he  did 
the  owl,  and  I  '11  send  it  to  Tom  Dale,"  said  Hugh. 

The  evenings  were  now  quite  cold  in  Tennessee.  There  was  a  light  fall  of 
snow,  and  the  wind  was  sharp  and  keen.  Uncle  Charley's  sitting-room  had  a 
wide  fire-place,  with  tall  brass  andirons  and  a  stone  hearth.  A  big  wood  fire 
flamed  and  crackled  there  constantly,  and  the  boys  thought  there  were  few 
things  more  enjoyable  and  comfortable  than  to  sit  before  it  in  an  arm-chair 
and  listen  to  a  good  story  read  aloud. 

Uncle  Charley  had  but  few  books  that  would  interest  boys.  He  took  all  the 
magazines,  however,  and  the  London  Field  and  several  American  journals 
devoted  to  shooting  and  fishing,  so  that  Neil  and  Hugh  found  plenty  of  good 
reading  matter  quite  suited  to  their  prevailing  line  of  thought.  Then  Mr. 
Marvin  was  generally  ready  with  reminiscences  of  his  hunting  adventures,  into 
which  he  always  managed  to  insert  some  good  advice,  or  some  wise  suggestions, 
intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  boys. 

So  the  time  passed,  and  at  last  the  day  of  their  departm-e  for  Florida  arrived. 
Once  more  they  w^ere  on  the  cars,  flying  southward  at  the  rate  of  thirty  or  forty 
miles  an  hour.  W^e  need  not  follow  them  step  by  step.  Let  ns  hurry  to  the 
warm,  green  Gulf,  and  find  them  sailing  over  its  bosom,  their  little  vessel  stanch 
and  true,  and  all  of  them  as  joyous  as  the  sweet  sea-breeze  itself. 


.l/.lA'r/.V  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTEliS.  95 


XX. 


DHIFTINMx   ALOXG   THE   COAST. 

HAVE  you  ever  saik-d  on  tlie  (hilf  of  Mexi('(..'  In  winter  the  water  near 
the  west  coast  of  the  peuinsuhi  of  Florida  is  usually  as  calm  as  an  inland 
pond,  so  far  as  big  waves  are  concerned,  and  the  breezes  seem  specially  designed 
to  make  sailing  safe  and  eiijoyal)le. 

The  boat  that  Uncle  Charley  had  chartered  was  called  the  Water-fowl,  and 
was  about  thirty  feet  long,  by  ten  or  twelve  feet  wide,  decked  over  for  about 
half  its  length,  and  furnished  with  a  supplementary  canvas  awning,  which 
could  lie  used  or  taken  down  at  pleasure.  It  was  rigged  with  a  mainsail  and 
jib,  had  a  center-board,  and  was,  in  fact,  a  very  stanch,  if  not  a  very  fast  or 
l)eautiful  little  craft. 

Uncle  Charley  had  hired  the  owner  of  the  Water-fowl,  Andrea  Gomez,  to 
go  along  as  sailing-master.  He  was  of  Spanish  descent,  about  fifty  years  old, 
short,  broad-shouldered,  and  very  dark.  He  was  a  good  sailor,  and  knew  almost 
every  island  and  reef  and  river  on  the  Florida  coast. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  exactly  describe  the  sensations  of  Neil  and  Hugh,  as 
they  felt  the  sea  palpitating  under  them,  while  the  gentle  breeze  blew  them 
along  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour. 

At  St.  Mark's,  they  had  written  long  letters  to  their  father,  directing  him  to 
address  them  at  Tampa.  Hugh  had  also  written  to  Tom  Dale.  They  felt  as  if 
they  were  embarking  on  a  mysterious  and  wonderful  voyage  to  some  romantic 
land  from  which  they  might  never  return.  Some  such  impression  as  this 
usually  fastens  upon  one  who  for  the  first  time  sails  upon  that  warm  Southern 
sea. 

Neil  stood  upon  the  little  deck  and  gazed  dreamily  about  him.  What  did  he 
see  ?  In  one  direction  a  low,  dark  shore  of  marsh-grass  and  tangled  woods, 
with  a  border  of  shining  white  sand;  in  every  other  direction,  a  sheet  of  green- 
blue  water,  that  met  the  sky  and  blended  with  it  in  a  creamy  line  at  the  horizon. 
How  very,  very  far  away  seemed  his  home  at  Belair,  in  cold  and  snowy  Illinois ! 

The  sun  beamed  down  upon  the  dc(;k  with  real  summer  fervor,  but  the  breeze 
was  cool  and  sweet.  A  few  gulls,  drifting  here  and  there,  flashed  their  wings 
in  the  light,  and  swarms  of  pelicans  wheeled  around  the  sandy  bars  along  the 
shore.  As  the  boat  kept  on  its  course,  the  outline  of  the  shore  seemed  to  break 
up  into  fragments,  hundreds  of  small  islands  appearing  along  the  coast.  Now 
and  then  a  picturesque  grove  of  palmetto-trees  stood  up  in  clear  relief  from  the 


96  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS- 

sand  ridges  on  the  main-land.     Some  gulf-caps,  those  strange  clouds  of  the 
Southern  sea,  hovered  in  the  far  western  horizon. 

Mr.  Gomez,  the  sailing-master,  was  a  very  (juiet  man,  and  sat  by  the  tiller  all 
day,  smoking  a  short  pipe  most  of  the  time. 

Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  lounged  in  the  after  part  of  the  hoat,  talking 
or  reading.  Judge  slept  on  his  back  in  the  warm  sunshine,  with  his  head  bare 
and  his  face  toward  tlie  sky. 

When  night  fell,  the  sloop  was  run  in  among  some  shore  islands  to  a  shallow, 
sheltered  spot,  and  anchored.  There  being  no  place  to  land,  supper  was  cooked 
on  board,  and  the  whole  party  slept  in  the  vessel. 

Next  day  the  breeze  was  fresher,  and  the  waves  ran  so  high  that  Neil,  Hugh, 
and  Judge  were  seasick ;  but  the  sloop  bowled  steadily  on,  notwithstanding,  and 
made  many  miles  before  night  fell  again.  It  was  a  terribly  long  day  for  the 
sick  boys,  and  they  were  glad  indeed  when  a  landing  was  made  on  a  dry,  sandy 
island,  and  they  were  permitted  to  go  ashore  to  sleep.  Such  a  sleep  as  they  had, 
too,  on  the  warm  sand  with  the  salt,  delicious  breeze  of  the  Gulf  blowing  over 
them  !  When  they  awoke,  the  sun  was  almost  an  hour  high,  and  Uncle  Charley 
had  been  fishing  with  fine  success,  and  had  brought  in  several  three-pound 
sheep's-head. 

Mr.  Marvin  had  been  anmnd  the  island  with  his  gun,  but  had  seen  nothing 
worth  shooting. 

As  for  Mr.  Gomez,  he  had  made  coffee  and  prepared  an  excellent  breakfast. 
Xeil  and  Hugh  and  Judge  ran  down  and  bathed  in  the  surf,  and  when  they 
had  di-essed   themselves,  they  felt  as  fresh  and  happy  as  if  they  had  never 
heard  of  sea-sickness. 

"  Ob  all  de  dreams,  I  had  'em  las'  night,"  said  Judge.  "  I  dre  mp  I  had  a  ritle 
an'  I  see  a  lion,  an'  de  lion  hit  come  at  me,  an'  when  I  try  to  shoot  'em  de  gun 
wa'  n't  nothin'  but  a'  umbreller  wdd  de  handle  broke  !  De  lion  hit  jis'  blare  hits 
eyes  right  wide  open  and  jump  clean  ober  me  !  I  neber  was  so  sceered  !  'Spec' 
dat  's  de  sign  ob  sumfin',  don't  you  ?" 

"  It 's  a  sign  you  '11  miss  your  breakfast,  if  you  don't  hurry  and  get  your- 
self dressed,"  said  Hugh.  ''The  smell  of  that  broiling  bacon  makes  me 
ravenous." 

"Yes,  and  dem  fish  smell  good,  too,"  said  Judge  wagging  his  head  and 
buttoning  his  suspenders. 

''  Oh,  look  in  Judge's  hair ! "  cried  Xeil,  as  they  started  for  the  camp. 
Hugh  looked,  and  began  to  laugh  men-ily.     A  '' fiddler-crab,"  one  of  those 
funny  little  animals,  somewhat  like  a  small  <-raw-fish.  had  become  tangled  in 
Judge's  wool  while  he  was  bathing. 

Judge  put  up  his  hand,  and  touched  the  s(iuinuing  thing. 
"  Take  'im  off!     Take  'im  off!"  he  shouted,  prancing  around  on  the  sand,  his 
wide-open  eyes  seeming  almost  twice  their  natural  size. 


MARVIN  AXl)    ni^   HOY  HUNTERS.  97 


Moonlight  on  the  river. 

Neil  and  Hugli  held  their  sides  and  langhed  as  only  merry  boys  can.  No 
monkey  ever  went  throucch  more  comical  contortions  of  face  and  body  than 
did  Judge,  as  he  danced  frantically  abont  in  his  frif>:ht.  With  his  arms  akimbo 
and  his  legs  bowed  outward,  he  "jumped  up  and  down"  on  the  beach,  yelling 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  : 

"  It  '11  bite  me  !     Take  'im  off,  (piick  !     Take  'ini  off',  (jiiick  !  " 

Hugh  had  pity  on  him  at  last  and  brushed  the  fiddler  off. 

"I  'se  not  gwine  inter  dat  water  no  mo'/'  Judge  muttered,  walking  away 
indignantly. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  they  all  went  al)oard  of  tlie  Watei-fowl  and  sailed 
away  to  the  southward. 

Two  more  days  passed  without  any  adventure  of  special  interest.  But  the 
voyage  grew  more  and  more  delightful  and  entertaining  all  the  time.  The  voy- 
agers saw  vast  numbers  of  aquatic  birds  hovering  about  strange  islands  or 
flying  high  overhead  in  long  angular  lines. 

Neil  sat  upon  the  deck  and  wrote  in  his  diary,  or  sketched  whatever  scenes  he 
thought  worth  remembering. 

One  day  as  they  were  passing  near  an  island  they  saw  a  number  of  snipe  settle 
down  on  a  marsh-meadow,  and  the  boys  asked  the  privilege  of  going  ashore  and 
shooting  some.  One  of  four  folding  canvas  boats  that  Ihicle  Charley  had  pro- 
vided  was  brought  out  and  launched. 

"Now,"  said  Mr,  Marvin,  as  the  boys  took  their  places  in  the  little  craft,  with 
Neil  at  the  oars,  "  don't  kill  any  more  than  twenty  or  thirty.  That  will  be  as 
many  as  we  can  use,  and  you  know  we  have  agreed  not  to  destroy  any  birds  for 
mere  wantonness." 

Neil  promised  that  they  would  not  transgress  the  rule,  and  then,  bending  to 
the  oars,  he  pulled  for  the  marsh.  They  found  some  difficulty  in  making  a 
landing,  the  shore  being  very  muddy,  but  at  last  they  found  firm  footing.  Back 
a  few  steps  from  the  water  the  meadow  was  higher  and  the  walking  good. 
The  boys  separated,  each  sharply  on  the  lookout  for  a  first  shot  at  the  game. 
7 


98  BOYS'   BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

They  had  never  hunted  snipe,  and,  save  such  information  as  Xeil  liad  gathered 
from  books,  they  were  unacquainted  with  the  bird's  habits. 

The  sloop  had  come  to  anchor,  and  Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  watched 
from  the  deck  as  the  boys  proceeded  to  tramp  over  the  meadow. 

Presently  two  snipe  sprang  into  the  air  in  front  of  Hugh,  with  a  littk- 
sharp  cry  that  sounded  like  "  'scape,  'scape,"  and  they  did  escape.  Their  flight 
was  like  a  corkscrew  in  its  line.  Hugh  blazed  away,  but  did  not  touch  a 
feather.  At  the  sound  of  his  gun,  several  more  birds  took  to  wing,  giving  Neil 
and  Judge  a  chance  for  a  shot ;  but  they  did  not  do  any  better  than  Hugh.  It 
was  a  case  of  clean  missing  for  all  of  them. 

Uncle  Charley,  who  was  watching  the  attack  through  a  strong  field-glass, 
laughed  heartily. 

•'  The  boys  have  met  their  match,"  lie  said  to  Mr.  Marvin  ;  ''  they  don't  know 
how  to  shoot  snipe." 

"  Experience  is  the  best  teacher,"  replied  Mr.  Marvin  ;  ''  they  11  soon  discover 
how  to  aim.  It  bothers  the  best  of  shots,  for  a  while,  to  become  accustomed  to 
a  snipe's  eccentric  flight." 

Judge's  old  flint-lock  killed  the  first  bird,  but  it  was  n't  a  snipe.  It  was 
a  clapper-rail,  caUed  by  the  naturalists  Eallns  crepifanfi,  which  he  flushed 
from   some    tall    grass   beside  a  little 

pond.  This  bird  flew  rather  heavily,  af-        ^ .  , 

fording  Judge  a  most  excellent  target.  \    \       J    \  V^\  '''  /r^"' 

Xeil  and  Hugh  fired  shot  after  «s^%^        '"    i    /  / 

shot,  but  not  a  snipe  fell.  r^=^^.^^--'.5'^^*\ '    '  ' "  '///    \  " 

''  I   don't    believe  these   car-  "  ^ 

fridges  are  good  for  anything,''   said 
Hugh  in  a  hopeless  tone.  ^^  — ;^ 

''  Oh,  it 's  not  the  fault  of  the  shells,"         ^  -      _   .  .  ^^ 

responded  Neil ;  ^'  it  's   the  wriggling 
way  that  these  snipe  have  in  flying  ;  a         -^^ 
fellow  can't  cover  them.      I  wish  Mr. 
Marvin  would   come   over;  he   would  -Not  a  snipe  feU." 

show  us  how  to  hit  them." 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  going  to  give  it  up,"  exclaimed  Hugh.  "  1  '11  shoot  as  long  as 
my  shells  hold  out." 

Judge  kept  banging  away  with  his  funny  old  gun,  and  when  at  last  he  did 
really  kill  a  snipe,  his  joy  had  no  limit.  That  he  had  bagged  two  birds  before 
Neil  or  Hugh  could  kill  one  seemed  to  him  a  most  glorious  victor}'. 

"  Mebbe  yo'  wont  call  my  gun  a'  ole  blundybus  no  mo'!"  he  cried,  liolding 
up  his  game  and  making  comical  grimaces  at  the  white  boys. 

At  last  Neil  began  to  understand  the  spiral  turns  of  the  snipe's  flight,  and 
then  the  bii-ds  fell  at  nearly  every  shot  he  flred.  Hugh  also  found  the  knack, 
so  that  finally  the  sport  gi-e\v  very  exciting. 


3IAIiVIX  AND   HIS  BOY  IIUNTKliS.  09 

Uiielo  Charley  was  delighted  when,  by  the  aid  of  liis  field-alass,  he  saw  that 
the  boys  were  mastering  the  ditReulty. 

'^ Bravo!"  he  exclaimed,  ''bravo!  Neil  is  knocking-  them  down  Ix-autifully 
now.  He  has  caught  the  idea.  There,  Hugh  killed  one,  too  !  Another  one  down 
for  Xeil, —  another  for  Hugh.  Why,  that's  grand  sport  they 'i-e  haviug  over 
there,  Marviu ;  we  Ve  missed  a  treat ! " 

"Yes;  but  I  thought  we  'd  better  not  go.  We  should  liavc  killed  all  wc 
needed  before  the  boys  could  have  got  their  hands  in,  and  that  would  have 
cut  them  out,"  replied  Mr.  Marvin. 

The  three  boy  hunters  kept  up  a  noisy  fusillade  across  tlie  broad  marsh- 
meadow.  They  entirely  forgot  their  promise,  and  no  dou])t  would  have  killed  a 
great  many  more  than  thirty,  if  Mr.  Marvin  had  not  blown  the  bugle-horn, 
which  was  the  signal  for  them  to  return  to  the  boat. 

"  Oil,  but  did  n't  I  hate  to  quit !  "  exclaimed  Hugh,  as  Xeil  was  rowing  them 
back,     "■  I  was  just  beginning  to  get  the  knack  of  it." 

"  Dat's  jis'  me,  zac'ly,"  said  Judge.  "I  was  a-ketchin'  outer  dat  whirlymegig 
ol)  a  wa}'  dey  has  o'  flyin',  an'  I  could  'a'  brought  down  heaps  ol)  'em,  ef  I  'd  had 
a  little  mo'  time." 

Whcm  they  all  were  al)oard  the  sloop  again  the  birds  were  counted,  and  the 
score  stood  as  follows  :  Neil,  15  ;  Hugh,  10;  Jvidge,  3  —  total,  28. 

The  clapper-rail  that  Judge  had  killed  was  not  included  in  the  count,  because 
Mr.  Marxdn  said  it  was  so  slow  in  its  flight  that  it  would  not  be  fair  to  reckon 
it  in  a  score  where  snipe-shooting  had  been  the  undertaking. 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  they  sailed  before  a  light  breeze,  and  at  night  they 
slept  on  deck. 

Neil  had  made  some  drawings  of  the  rail  and  snipe,  and  put  a  description  of 
the  snipe-hunt  in  his  diary. 

They  did  not  stop  to  shoot  any  more  until  they  reached  Tampa,  a  town  fai- 
down  the  coast  of  the  peninsula,  where,  as  they  had  expected,  letters  and  papers 
from  home  awaited  them.  It  was  a  great  shock  to  Neil  and  Hugh  to  learn  that 
Tom  Dale  and  another  Belair  boy  named  Jere  Long,  had  been  drowned  by  falling- 
through  an  air-hole  in  the  ice  while  skating  a  race.  Hugh  cried,  for  he  thought 
a  great  deal  of  Tom. 

'*  Who  ever  would  have  dreamed  that  with  all  our  carelessness  with  our 
guns  and  our  exposure  to  all  sorts  of  dangers  and  accidents,  we  would  be 
safer  than  poor  Tom  Dale  and  Jere  Long,  and  they  at  home,  too?"  said  Neil, 
sadly. 

''  I  suppose  papa  was  glad  we  were  not  there,"  said  Hugh,  "  for  we  should  have 
been  in  that  race  sure,  and  we  might  have  gone  into  the  air-hole  just  as  they 
did." 

The  orange-groves  alxuit  Tampa  wore  loaded  with  luscious  oranges,  and  the 
bananas  were  ripe  and  melloAv.  Uncle  Charley  sent  several  large  boxes  of  lx)th 
kinds  of  fruit  aboard  the  Water-fowl. 


/)^ 


A3IONG   THE   FLORIDA   BIRDS. 

A  FTER  a  stay  of  two  days  iu  Tampa,  in  ordti 
Jr\.  to  give  Uncle  Charley  time  to  write  some 
business  letters,  and  to  examine  some  real     ^ 
estate  for  a  friend  in  Tennessee,  our  party 
sailed  out  of  the  beautiful  bay  of  Tampa 
at  sunrise,  and  turned  southward  down 
the  long  Sarasota  river,  or  —  more  cor-      -— 

rectly  speaking  —  bay,  that  extends  along  the  -^  "- 

peninsula  between  the  coast  islands  on  one       -  ^ 

hand,   and   the   main-land  on  the  other.     In 

some  places,  owing  to  large  reefs  of  oysters  ,  ^  ^ 

and  mud-banks,  the  navigation  of  those  waters  \ 

is   quite   dangerous,  but  Mr.  Gomez  was  so 
familiar  with   the  channels  that  he  kept  the       ^ 
sloop  clear  of  all  obstructions.  "  =i^  Z* — r-r— -w^  -^  - 

Mr.  Marvin  desired  to  find  the  mouth  of  a  "^  ~ 

certain  large  creek  that  empties  into  the  Gulf  about  twenty-five  miles  below 
the  northern  end  of  the  bay,  as  he  had  been  told  that  through  it  a  fine  i-egion 
foi-  plume-hunting  could  be  reached.  But  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  discover 
wliich  one  of  the  many  indentations  of  the  shore  was  the  entrance  looked  for. 

It  was  ten  o'<!lock  at  night,  with  the  moon  shining  brightly  somcM-hat  down  the 
western  slope  of  the  sky,  when  they  anchored  under  a  low  l)luff  covered  with 
cedar-trees.  Here  Neil  and  Hugh  saw  their  first  sharks,  Tlic  Inige  fellows  were 
chasing  a  swarm  of  mullet,  and  in  their  eagerness  to  capture  the  smaller  fish 


3lAJiVIX  AN  J)   HIS  BOY  HUNTKIiS.  101 

they  would  follow  their  prey  into  water  so  shoal  that  tlicii-  bi-oad  black  Ijacks 
would  break  through  tiie  surface,  while  the  uiullet  woidd  leap  bodily  from  the 
water,  souietimes  falliug  a  short  distance  out  upon  the  shells  or  sand  of  the 
shore.  It  was  a  stranii:e  sight,  and  the  swashing  sounds,  as  the  sharks  strug- 
gled l)aek  into  the  deeper  part  of  the  channel,  broke  in  upon  the  still,  moonlit 
night  with  an  effect  not  easy  to  describe. 

Mr.  (loniez  went  ashore  and  perched  himself  on  the  highest  point  of  the  bluff, 
where,  as  he  sat  smoking  his  pipe,  he  looked  like  a  rcmnd- shouldered  silhouette 
against  the  shimmering  sky.  At  first  they  could  not  understand  why  the  old 
saihn-  had  gone  up  there ;  but  soon  countless  swarms  of  mosquitoes,  from  a  low 
nuirsh  astern  of  the  boat,  assailed  them  in  a  body.  The  wings  of  those  legions 
of  warlike  insects  filled  the  air  with  an  unbearably  irritating  murmur,  and  the 
onslaught  of  their  piercing  bills  was  almost  maddening. 

"'Here,  this  wont  do!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Marvin,  at  last.  '^  We  shall  be  eaten 
up  by  these  mosquitoes.     We  must  go  ashore." 

All  hands  assented.  Neil  and  Hugh  took  their  double  hammock  and  swung 
it  between  two  cedar-trees,  where  a  strong  current  of  the  Gulf  breeze  would  blow 
upon  it.  And  there  they  slept  sweetly,  entirely  undisturbed  by  the  mosquitoes. 
Just  before  sunrise,  Neil  slipped  out  of  the  hammock,  dressed  himself,  took 
his  gun,  and  went  for  a  short  walk  about  the  island.  He  found  great  numbers 
of  deer-tracks  leading  into  a  dark,  impenetrable  cypress  jungle  but  no  deer  were 
visible.  By  the  margin  of  a  still,  grass-fringed  lagoon  he  flushed  some  small 
herons  and  one  or  two  plover ;  but  nothing  worth  firing  at  appeared  until,  in 
passing  around  an  outlying  spur  of  the  swamp,  he  came  suddenly  upon  a  pair 
of  snowy  herons,  that  took  to  wing  within  thirty  yards  of  him.  The  flash  and 
flutter  of  their  broad  white  wings  startled  him  at  fii-st,  but  he  raised  his  gun 
in  time  to  get  a  good  aim  at  one  of  them,  and  brought  it  down  in  fine  style. 
He  fired  at  the  other,  but  it  had  gone  too  far,  and  he  missed  it.  Neil's  bird, 
named  by  the  naturalists  Garzetia  candidissima,  was  in  full  plumage,  and  he  held 
it  up  proudly  for  the  rest  of  the  party  to  look  at  as  he  returned  to  camp  just  at 
hreakfast-time.  It  measured  thirty-nine  inches  from  tip  to  tip  of  its  wings. 
The  plumes,  so  much  prized  as  ornaments  by  ladies,  lay  loosely  on  its  back, 
curling  upward  near  their  lower  ends,  as  wiiite  as  snow  and  as  soft  as  silk. 
Mr.  Marvin  said  it  was  a  perfect  specimen  of  its  kind,  the  finest,  in  fact,  that  he 
had  ever  seen  ;  and  he  asked  Neil  to  let  him  prepare  its  skin  for  mounting. 

The  next  day  they  reached  the  creek  for  which  they  were  looking:,  and  after  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  brought  the  sloop  up  to  a  good  camping-place  some  miles 
inland  from  the  bay.  Here  the  tents  were  pitched  on  a  mound,  with  a  wide 
meadow  on  one  hand  and  a  dense  forest  on  the  other.  The  heron-roost  was  a 
mile  distant  up  the  creek,  but  shoal  water  and  an  immense  stretch  of  saw-grass, 
lily-pads,  and  clumps  of  aquatic  weeds  prevented  their  taking  the  sloop  any 
farther  in  that  direction. 


10: 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


The  inouiid  on  whieli  the  tents  were  pitched  was  ■underlaid  with  a  shell  for- 
mation, and  at  a  remote  period  had  been  occupied  probably  by  a  family  of 
Indians,  as  a  home.  The  remnants  of  an  old  palmetto  hut  were  visible,  and  a 
few  {gnarled  orange-trees  and  some  guavas  grew  scattered  about  in  the  vicinity, 
while  traces  of  a  rude  fence  bordered  the  wood. 

The  boj's  were  delighted  to  see  flocks  of  snipe  pitching  down  into  the  grass  of 
the  meadow,  beyond  which  a  small  lake  shone  clear  and  bright,  with  a  live-oak 
hummock  on  its  farther  side,  and  a  fringe  of  tall  grass  and  rushes  around  its 
border.  Far  off  in  the  south-east,  a  ridge  of  sand  with  a  thin  line  of  palmetto- 
trees  on  its  summit  was  softly  outlined  against  the  sky. 

Next  morning  all  were  up  early.  The  night's  sleep  had  been  refreshing,  and 
breakfast  was  eaten  with  \dgorous  appetites.  Even  while  they  were  eating  they 
saw  several  large  flocks  of  water-fowl  flying  low  across  the  meadow  toward  the 
lake.  Other  flocks  passed  almost  overhead  on  their  way  up  the  creek  to  some 
lagoon  or  pond. 

It  was  arranged  that  Mr.  Gomez  and  Judge  should  stay  at  the  camp,  while  the 
rest  took  the  canvas  boats  and  piLlled  up  the  creek  in  quest  of  herons. 

Xeil  and  Hugh  occupied  one  of  these  boats  together,  while  Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle 
Charley  each  took  a  separate  one.  The  stream  had  not  much  current,  so  that  they 
were  not  long  in  reaching  the  lake  above,  where  the  water  was  full  of  weeds, 

grass,  lily-pads,  and 
all  manner  of  aquatic 
plants, —  truly  a  her- 
on's paradise. 
rj}:'  While    Neil    was 

— _ZZ~  pulling  the  boat 
:2^  through  a  narrow 
water -lane  between 
liigh  walls  of  grass,  Hugh 
secured  a  fine  shot  at  a 
great  blue  heron,  the  Ardea 
lierodias  of  our  naturalists : 
but  it  was  flying  at  a  right 
angle  with  his  line  of  sight, 
and  he  forgot  to  aim  ahead 
of  it.     All  large  birds  seem 

Tlie  great  blue  heron.  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^j^  ^1^,;^^.^^.  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^, 

really  do,  and  they  also  appear  to  be  much  nearer  than  they  really  are  :  conse- 
(piently,  it  is  a  common  fault  of  young  shooters  in  aiming  at  geese,  herons, 
cranes,  and  ducks,  not  to  allow  for  flight,  and  therefore  to  miss  hehind  the  game. 
Hugh  now  took  the  oars,  which  he  could  do  without  changing  his  seat,  the 
boat  being  a  "  double-ender,"  in  order  that  Neil  might  try  a  shot  at  the  next 
game  they  saw. 


3IAIiVIN  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS. 


103 


Mr.  Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  were  already  anion-;-  the  l»irds,  and  their  guns 
"were  roaring  almost  eontiunally. 

The  boys  did  not  understand  the  windings  of  the  water-lanes,  and  in 
consequeuce  they  soon  found  themselves  pulling  along  the  shore  under  the 
boughs  of  some  grand  old  live-oak  trees. 

Suddenly  Hugh  cried  out :    '^  Oh,  look, 
Neil, look!  There 
's   a   snake    with 
wings !     Quick 


2!^  ?  •>v->/; 


t*'?^ 

"% 


.VM 


Neil  shoots  a  snake-bird. 

shoot  it  l)efore  it  gets  away!"  He  backed  water  as  he  spoke,  and  stoi)i)ed 
the  boat. 

Neil  looked,  and  saw  a  strange,  serpent-like  neck,  followed  l)y  a  dark  winged 
body,  wriggling  ah)ng  in  the  water ;  the  head  was  above  the  surface,  the  rest  of 
it  below.  It  was  a  hideous  object  as  it  squirmed  and  writhed  along  toward  a 
patch  of  grass  and  weeds,  and  Hugh  really  believed  that  it  was  a  winged  snake ; 
but  Neil  had  read  descriptions  of  the  snake-birds,  and  knew  at  once  that  this 
was  one  of  them.  He  fired  and  killed  it ;  and  upon  examination  it  Avas  found 
to  be  far  less  hideous  than  they  had  thought.  It  had  a  long  slender  neck  and 
a  rather  queer  head,  and  its  habit  of  swimming  with  its  body  under  water 
and  its  head  out  had  given  it  the  appearance  of  a  regular  water-dragon.  The 
boys  threw  it  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  as  Neil  wished  to  make  a  sketch  of  it 
and  skin  it  when  he  returned  to  camp. 

From  the  rapid  firing  kept  up  by  Uncle  Charley  and  ^\v.  ]\[arvin.  it  was 
evident  that  they  were  making  havoc  among  the  herons;  but  the  boys  found 


104  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

none,  though  snake-birds,  named  riatus  anhiuga  by  ornithologists,  were  now 
seen  in  every  direction ;  it  was  sometimes  difficult  to  distinguisli  them  from  the 
mottled  moccasin  snake  so  numerous  in  Florida. 

At  length,  growing  tired  of  the  labor  of  rowing,  and  Neil  wisliing  to  gather 
some  strange-looking  flowers,  they  pulled  the  boat  ashore  at  a  dry  point  on  the 
wooded  side  of  the  lake.  While  Neil  was  botanizing,  Hugh  went  a  short 
distance  into  the  woods,  hoping  he  might  see  a  deer.  The  trees  were  mostly 
live-oaks  and  water-oaks  of  large  size  with  wide-spread  tops  and  buttressed 
roots ;  some  giant  vines  were  knotted  and  linked  from  tree  to  tree,  and  the 
foliage  was  so  thick  that  scarcely  a  ray  of  light  could  fall  through.  Hugh  saw 
no  game,  biit  a  dull  tramping  sound  almost  overhead  and  the  falling  of  large 
fragments  of  bark  and  rotten  wood  attracted  his  attention  to  the  top  of  a  very  tall 
dead  tree,  and  there  he  discovered  a  bird  of  which  he  and  Neil  had  talked  a  gi*eat 
deal,  but  which  neither  of  them  had  ever  seen  —  an  ivory-billed  woodpecker  — 
the  handsomest  of  all  American  birds.  It  was  pounding  away  vigorously  with 
its  great  white  beak  against  the  lower  side  of  a  rotten  limb,  about  eighty  feet 
from  the  ground,  and  its  broad  back  was  fully  exposed  to  Hugh's  aim.  He 
fired,  and  it  fell  straight  down  almost  at  his  feet.  This  was  indeed  a  i)rize,  for 
he  knew  how  his  father  would  value  such  a  specimen.  He  picked  it  up  and  ran 
back  to  Neil,  who  exclaimed  : 

"A  CampephiJus  principalis  !  Wont  Mr.  Marvin  be  glad  !  I  heard  him  say  that 
a  gentleman  in  New  York  had  offered  him  fifty  dollars  for  the  skin  of  one ! " 

'^  But  I  want  to  send  this  to  papa,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Oh,  you  can't  do  that  without  Mr.  Marvin's  consent ;  for  it  was  agreed  that 
all  valua]:)le  specimens,  plumes,  and  eggs  should  belong  to  him,"  responded  Neil. 

"  That's  so,"  assented  Hugh  ;  ''  and  I  suppose  it 's  right,  too,  for  Mr.  ^larviii 
lias  taught  us  a  great  deal." 

They  went  back  to  their  boat  and  pulled  across  the  shallow  lake  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  heavy  firing  kept  up  by  the  other  two  hunters,  l)ut  before  they  coidd 
join  them,  the  shooting  was  over.  Mr.  Marvin  had  the  bottom  of  liis  boat 
padded  with  tufts  of  snowy  and  ash-colored  plumes  which  he  had  stripped  from 
the  birds  killed  by  himself  and  Uncle  Charley.  ''  Many  a  fine  lady  will  wear 
these,"  he  said,  holding  up  some  very  long  feathers.  He  was  delighteil  when 
Hugh  gave  him  the  ivory-billed  woodpecker. 

Neil's  good  luck  came  as  they  were  making  their  way  back  to  camp.  He 
killed  a  roseate  spoon-bill  —  Ajaja  rosea  —  by  a  splendid  shot,  that  won  the 
hearty  applause  of  Mr.  Marvin.  It  was  quite  sixty  yards  distant,  and  was  flying 
straight  across  the  direction  in  which  the  boat  was  moving. 

The  beautiful  rose-colored  wings,  the  long  pale  ])ink  tuft  of  breast-plumes, 
and  the  brilliant  carmine  shoulder-feathers  of  this  bird  made  it  a.  prize  almost 
e(iual  in  value  to  the  Campephilus  principalis. 

**  Very  well  for  one  day,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  in  a  satisfied  tone. 


Some  of  Neil's  sketches. 


lOG  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOIUS. 

XXII. 

A   SUDDEN    DEPARTURE. 

WHEN  mu'  plunie-lnintevs  reached  camp  again,  Judge  was  found  to  be  in 
a  very  excited  state  of  miud.  Great  flocks  of  snipe  had  api)roached  the 
edge  of  the  meadow  nearest  the  mound,  and  he  had  been  waiting  impatiently 
for  Uncle  Charley  to  return,  as  he  had  been  ordered  by  him  and  Mr.  Marvin 
not  to  leave  camp  before  they  came.  He  had  heard  the  sound  of  the  shooting 
up  at  Weed  Lake,  and  that,  together  with  the  near  approach  of  the  snipe,  had 
rendered  him  doubly  restless.  He  had  his  old  flint-lock  across  his  lap,  nursing 
it  tenderly  ;  his  game-bag  was  at  his  side,  and  his  shot-pouch  and  powder-flask 
slung  in  their  places,  ready  for  instant  use. 

"  Neber  see  folks  stay  so  long,  no  how,"  he  grumbled  good-naturedly ; 
"  seem  's  like  yo'  not  gwine  t'  come  back  at  all.  I 's  been  nios'  dead  ter  tackle 
dem  whirlymegig  birds  down  dar.'' 

But  the  Campepliilus  principalis  QA\(\.  the  roseate  spoon-bill  liad  to  be  examined 
by  him  before  he  could  go.  Anything  red  charmed  Judge,  and  the  tall  scarlet 
crest  of  the  giant  woodpecker  and  the  dazzling  carmine  shoulder-plumes  of  the 
spoon-bill  put  him  into  raptures. 

Mr.  Gomez,  during  the  party's  absence,  had  cut  some  poles  and  built  a  shed 
which  he  had  thatched  with  palmetto  leaves.  This  made  him  a  very  snug  open 
tent  under  which  he  had  swung  his  hammock. 

Neil  and  Hugh  watched  Mr.  Marvin  skin  the  woodpecker  while  Judge  was 
banging  away  at  the  snipe  over  the  meadow.  Neil  made  a  water-color  drawing 
of  the  head  of  this  grand  bird,  and  an  outline  sketch  of  the  spoon-bill. 

Hugh  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  joining  Judge  in  the  snipe-shooting, 
so  he  presently  snatched  up  his  gun  and  went  out  upon  the  meadow.  The  grass 
grew  in  tufts,  with  a  light  trace  of  water  or  soft  mud  between.  The  birds 
usually  rose  singly,  or  in  flocks  of  three  or  four,  sometimes  from  near  the  feet 
of  the  hunter,  flying  low  and  dropping  into  the  grass  again  after  going  not 
more  than  fifty  yards. 

Hugh  soon  began  to  flush  them,  and  he  aimed  with  great  deliberation,  reserv- 
ing his  fire  until  the  game  steadied  itself  after  its  first  gyrations  in  the  air.  But 
he  found  it  quite  as  difficult  to  hit  them  now  as  it  had  been  on  the  island.  He 
missed  oftener  than  he  hit,  in  spite  of  all  his  care.  Suddenly  he  renuMubered 
that  his  shells  were  loaded  with  very  large  shot  for  heron-shooting.  This 
accounted  for  his  poor  marksmanship.     He  went  back  to  his  tent  and  got  some 


MAIiVIX  AXJJ   ins  BOY  llUNTEliS.  107 

cartricljres  loaded  with  luimlxT  ten  shot,  and  whni  lie  resumed  shootiuf,',  ho 
could  lut  a  great  deal  oftener.  The  hirds  were  very  hard  to  find  after  they 
were  killed,  as  they  almost  always  fell  in  the  grass,  where  the  blades  and  stems 
were  nearly  of  the  same  color  as  their  feathers.  This  made  Hugh  wish  for  a 
dog ;  but  Snip  and  Sly  and  Belt  and  Don  had  been  left  at  Tallahassee,  Uncle 
Charley  having  decided  not  to  bring  them  any  farther.  In  changing  his 
cartridges,  too,  Hugh  lost  a  good  opportunity.  He  had  just  reloaded  his  gun, 
after  killing  a  snipe,  when,  happening  to  look  up,  he  saw  a  scarlet  ibis  flying 
overhead  at  a  height  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  Quick  as  thought, 
he  aimed  a  little  ahead  of  the  bright- winged  bird  and  fired.  The  shot  failed.  He 
fired  again.  Not  a  feather  fell,  and  the  ibis,  ''like  a  flake  of  flame,"  swept  on 
toward  the  Gulf.  This  was  the  only  specimen  of  this  gorgeous  bird  that  the 
boys  saw  during  their  long  ramblings  in  Florida.  Hugh  was  very  sorry  he  had 
not  kept  on  using  the  large  shot !  It  would  have  been  better,  he  thought,  to 
have  killed  fewer  snipe  and  made  sure  of  the  scarlet  ibis. 

Judge  did  not  stop  shooting  while  there  was  daylight  enough  to  see  how  to 
aim.  He  and  Hugh  together  bagged  twenty-five  snipe.  The  score  stood : 
Hugh,  16  ;  Judge,  9. 

That  night  it  was  discovered  that  Mr.  Gomez  was  quite  a  musician.  He  played 
upon  a  flute  until  late  bed-time,  the  mellow  notes  floating  away  to  the  haunts  of 
the  alligator  and  the  dens  of  the  bear  and  the  panther.  Neil  and  Hugh  swung 
in  their  double  hammock,  with  the  cool  night  breeze  blowing  over  them,  and 
Avatched  the  brilliant  Southern  moon  as  it  seemed  to  slip  along  under  the  almost 
purple  sky.  They  resisted  the  approach  of  sleep  and  lay  awake  long  after  Mr. 
Gomez's  music  had  ceased. 

"  Why  can't  one  just  stay  here  always,"  said  Hugh  ;  ''  I'm  sure  I  never  could 
tire  of  this  delightful  climate  or  of  the  fine  hunting  this  region  affords." 

''  Oh,  but  we'd  grow  to  be  men  presently,  and  a  man  must  have  a  business  and 
do  something  to  earn  money,"  responded  Neil  in  his  matter-of-fact  way. 

''  What 's  the  use  of  money  f  "  exclaimed  Hugh  ;  '"  a  fellow  might  do  without 
any  money  down  here." 

"Yes,  you  can  say  that,  Imt  how  nuu^h  do  you  suppose  that  this  sport  of  ours  is 
costing  Uncle  Charley?"  said  Xeil.  ''  I  heard  him  say  that  Mr.  Gomez  charges  him 
five  dollars  a  day  for  himself  and  the  sloop,  and  then  there's  all  ofir  supplies  !" 

"  Well,  Uncle  Charley's  rich,"  responded  Hugh;  "  he  doesn't  mind  it." 

"  Of  course  he  does  n't  mind  it ;  but  he  could  n't  spend  so  much  money  if  he 
had  n't  first  made  it,"  Neil  replied ;  "  I  have  heard  both  fatlu-r  and  Uncle  Cliarlcy 
say  that  they  were  born  poor." 

"  I  did  n't  know  that,"  said  Hugh  in  a  surprised  tone.  "  How  did  Uncle  Cliarley 
get  rich,  then  '? " 

"  By  farming  and  cattle-raising.  He  began  with  a  few  acres  and  small  herds, 
and  kept  on  till  he  owned  a  thousand  acres  and  hundreds  of  cattle,  horses,  mules 


108 


BOYS'   BOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 


aud  sheep.     He  has  worked  very  hard  all  his  life  ;  that 's  why  he  is  now  able  to 
do  as  he  pleases." 

"  Well,  I  wish  I  had  a  large  farm,"  said  Hugh,  "aud  lots  of  uiouey.  I  would  n't 
stop  huutiug  till  I  had  my  fill  of  it  for  once." 

"  I  would  rather  be  a  great  paiuter  thau  a  great  shootei-,"  said  Neil.  *'  I  dou't 
meau  to  uegleet  my  studies  on  account  of  my  love  of  hunting.     I  intend,  when 

we  are  at  home  again,  to  re- 
double my  efforts  to  get  a  fine 
education  and  a  good  knowl- 
edge of  art-work.  I  want  to 
be  great  and  famous." 

"  I  think  you  will  be  a  great 
man  some  day,  Xeil,"  said 
Hugh,  "  for  I  have  heai'd  Mr. 
Marvin  and  Uncle  Charley  say 
that  you  show  great  genius  for 
drawing  and  coloring.'" 

"  Oh,  did  they  say  that?  I  'm 
so  glad."  murmured  Neil,  "  for 
sometimes  I  get  discouraged 
and  think  I  will  stop  trying. 
It 's  such  a  difficult  thing  to 
draw  well." 

The  sweet  wind  blew  over 
them  and  swayed  their  ham- 
mock gently.  Thej'  fell  asleep, 
Xeil  to  dream  of  grand 
achievements  and  great  fame 
as  an  artist,  and  Hugh  todream 
of  happy  adventures  among 
the  strange  birds  of  those  semi- 
I  tropical  groves  and  plains. 

Early  next  morning  they 
were  startled  from  sleep  by  loud  voices  and  \dolent  language.  Hurrying  on 
their  clothes,  they  found  that  a  party  of  very  rough-looking  men  had  come  uj) 
the  creek  in  a  large  boat,  and  were  insisting  ui)on  taking  possession  of  the 
mound  for  their  camp.  They  claimed  to  have  leased  from  the  owner  the  hunt- 
ing on  a  large  area  of  ground  about  there. 

''  Show  your  lease,"  Uncle  Charley  was  calmly  saying,  **  and  we  will  respect 
it,  no  matter  what  we  may  think  of  you." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  have  any  lease,  and  I  think  you  are  a  set  of  impostors," 
said  Mr.  Marvin.  "You  'd  better  take  good  advice  and  go  back  the  way  you 
came,  and  in  sliort  order." 


.1/.17.MV.V   AX!)    /US    HOY  JUJNTEIiS.  109 

"Joe  Stout.  I  know  i/ok"  saul  Mr.  Clomez,  stepi»ing-  forward  and  addressing 
the  fellow  who  appeared  t(;  be  the  leader  of  the  intruders;  "you  never  in 
all  your  life  had  money  enough  to  lease  a  potato  patch  for  fifteen  minutes.'' 

"Hello!  Gomez,  is  tliat  you,  old  man?''  remarked  the  i-uflfian,  in  a  more 
pacific  tone. 

"You  can  see  for  yourself,"  answered  Mr.  Gomez  ;  "  and  you  know  that  when 
I  camp  at  a  place,  I  'm  there  to  stay  as  long  as  I  please." 

The  men  in  the  boat  now  held  a  council  in  low  tones,  after  which  the  leader 
said : 
"Well,  I  guess  you've  got  the  right  to  the  campiu'-place,  so  we'll  go  away." 
With  that  they  turned  their  boat  about  and  pulled  down  the  creek  until  they 
passed  out  of  sight  around  a  bend. 

"  They  're  a  bad  lot,"  said  Mr.  Gomez,  when  they  were  gone ;  "  avc  shall  be  in 
danger  so  long  as  we  stay  in  this  vicinity.  They  wont  tackle  us  together,  but 
if  they  were  to  find  one  or  two  of  us  away  from  our  party,  they  'd  shoot  us  in  a 
minute,  on  very  little  provocation." 

"Where  are  they  from?"  inquired  Uncle  Charley. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Mr.  Gomez,  "  but  Joe  Stout  used  to  be  a  sponger  up 
around  Cedar  Keys ;  I  used  to  see  him  often  on  my  coasting  voyages." 
"  What  is  a  sponger  f  "  asked  Hugh. 

"  A  man  who  fishes  for  sponges,"  replied  Neil.  "  A  great  many  sponges  are 
found  in  the  Gulf  off  the  west  coast  of  Florida." 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  decidedly,  "  you  all  may  get  ready  to  move  at 
once.  I  'm  not  down  here  on  a  fighting  expedition.  Strike  the  tents  and  move 
everything  aboard  as  quickly  as  possible." 

There  was  no  room  for  objections  or  suggestions  when  Uncle  Charley  gave 
an  order,  so  without  a  word  all  hands  fell  to  work,  and  in  less  than  haK  an  hour 
the  sloop  was  heading  down  the  creek  toward  the  Gulf.  The  wind  was  favor- 
able, but  they  often  had  to  use  the  oars,  as  the  stream  was  very  crooked.  They 
passed  the  boat  of  their  late  visitors  about  half  a  mile  from  the  camp.  There 
was  but  one  man  in  it ;  the  others  having  probably  gone  ashore  to  hunt.  The 
man  in  the  boat  stared  at  our  friends  as  they  sailed  past,  but  he  did  not  say  a 
word.  The  bay  was  reached  about  noon,  and  Uncle  Charley  ordered  Mr.  Gomez 
to  steer  for  Casey's  Pass,  which  is  the  south-west  outlet  to  the  bay. 

"We  will  run  down  to  Charlotte  Harbor,"  he  said,  "where  game  of  every 
kind  is  more  plentiful,  and  where  there  will  be  no  one  to  molest  us." 

That  night  they  anchored  under  the  shelter  of  a  reef,  and  next  morning  they 
sailed  out  into  the  Gulf,  running  close  to  a  merry  breeze.  At  times  they  were 
almost  out  of  sight  of  land,  and  their  little  sloop  rose  and  fell  with  the  long 
rolling  waves;  but  the  boys  were  not  seasick.  Mr.  Gomez  said  they  were 
getting  to  be  very  good  sailors.  They  saw  two  or  three  stately  ships  far  west- 
ward, bowling  along  under  some  yellow  GuK-caps,  and  a  long  dark  steamer  left 


110  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

a  trail  of  gloomy  smoke  behind  it  near  the  southern  horizon.  Swarms  of  sharks, 
shadowy  and  dim,  sported  in  the  greenish  water  beside  the  sloop.  They  looked 
quite  picturesque  and  harmless,  but  they  would  have  been  ugly  customers  for  a 
man  overboard. 

One  big  felloAV  rose  almost  to  the  surface,  and  Hugli  tried  a  shot  at  it 
with  Uncle  Charley's  rifle.  It  made  a  great  commotion,  but  they  could  not 
tell  whether  it  was  wounded  or  not,  though  Mr.  Marvin  said  he  thought  it 
was. 

Neil  spent  most  of  the  time,  until  they  reached  Charlotte  Harbor,  touching 
up  some  of  his  sketches  and  adding  some  pages  to  his  diary. 


XXIII. 

UP  THE  CALOOSAHATCHEE.   A  PANTHER. 

IX  due  time  our  friends  reached  Punta  Rassa,  a  small  village,  and  waited  there 
several  days  for  a  breeze  that  would  help  them  up  the  Caloosahatehee  River. 

From  Punta  Rassa  to  Fort  Myers,  a  distance  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  up 
the  river,  was  the  next  run.  The  first  part  was  through  a  rough  and  dangerous 
channel,  choked  with  oyster  bars  and  mud  shallows  ;  but  when  at  last  they  were 
fairly  in  the  Caloosahatehee,  it  was  found  to  be  a  grand  and  beautiful  river,  with 
high  banks  upon  which  grew  noble  forests  of  pine  and  oak.  They  passed  Fort 
Myers  just  after  night-fall,  but  the  moon  was  shining  brilliantly,  showing  the 
place  to  be  a  forlorn-looking  little  village.  Three  or  four  miles  beyond,  they 
anchored  near  a  small  mud  island,  and  slept  well,  despite  some  trouble  with 
mosquitoes. 

Neil  and  Hugh  heard  alligators  booming  about  in  the  lagoons  and  mud 
flats,  and  a  strange  sense  of  remoteness  and  isolation  stole  over  them.  They 
began  to  feel  as  if  they  were  getting  into  a  country  where  large  and  dangerous 
animals  roamed  at  will,  and  where  strange  trees  and  unknown  plants  and 
flowers  might  be  found.  They  knew,  too,  that  not  far  eastward  of  them  lay 
that  mysterious  inland  lake  caUed  Okeechobee,  around  the  borders  of  which 
still  dwelt,  in  their  own  wild  way,  the  last  remnant  of  Osceola's  once  famous 
Indian  warriors.  Neil  had  read  translations  of  the  old  Spanish  accounts  of  this 
region,  clothed  in  the  fascinating  mists  of  romance,  and  of  the  old  inexplical)le 
mounds,  fortifications,  and  canals  discovered  by  the  early  explorers,  and  he 
hoped  that  it  might  tm-n  out  that  he  should  be  able  to  find  the  wonderful  })earl- 
fisheries  of  the  savages. 


3[AJiVIX  AND   JUS  BOY   IIUSTEKS. 


Ill 


AVlu'U  morning-  canu',  tlicy  made  liastt-  to  woi-k  lli.'  ]»oat  past  soni.'  ng-ly  mud 
islands,  through  sliaUow,  treacherous  channels.  This  took  till  m-arly  noon,  the 
sloop  going-  aground  quite  often  on  hidden  bars  of  hlack  mud. 

And  now  they  began  to  get  glimpses  of  alligators, —  huge,  hideous  creatures, 
—  sliding  into  the  water  of  the  dark  lagoons  on  either  side  of  the  river. 

In  many  places  the  banks  of  the  stream  were  very  low,  and  our  friends, 
standing  on  the  de(;k  of  the  Water-fowl,  could  see  far  along  natural  openings 
in  the  woods  to  where  green  savannas,  those  beautiful  Southern  prairies,  shone 
in  the  sunlight. 

Now  and  then  a  small  sleek  deer  would  bound  away  into  the  thicket  or 
brakes,  or  stand  and  gaze  wildly  at  the  sloop  as  she  slowly  swept  by. 

Water-birds  seemed  almost  to  fill  the  air  and  to  cover  the  stream  in  places,— 


^:i&^z!^? 


They  heard  alligators  boo7iiiiig  in  the  lagoons. 


fillinU'  the  air,  as  though  bedhun 


the  sound  of  their  wings  and  their  harsh  crie: 
had  been  let  loose. 

Neil  and  Hugh  were  very  anxious  to  shoot  at  some  of  these  many  wild 
things,  but  Uncle  Charley  had  forbidden  them,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  stop 
to  collect  the  game  they  "killed,  and  he  did  not  approve  of  shooting  merely 
for  fun. 


112  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

Uncle  Charley,  ^Ir.  ^larvin,  and  Mr.  (iomez  had  to  resort  to  the  oars,  and  Xeil 
to  the  pushiuir-pole,  in  order  to  help  the  sloop  along,  Avheuever  the  wind  fell. 
The  progress  was  slow,  and  Hugh  gi-ew  very  impatient,  especially  when  he 
saw  a  raft  of  wood-duck  swimming  about  on  a  little  estuary,  under  the 
richly  variegated  pendants  of  air-plants,  that  swung  from  the  boughs  of 
overhanging  trees.  He  could  not  help  aiming  his  gun  at  them,  althougli  he 
did  not  shoot. 

"  Hugh,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  "  you  might  get  out  your  tackle  and  catch  us  some 
fish  as  we  go  along.  Put  a  spinning-spoon  on  the  line  and  troll  it  astern."  The 
suggestion  was  a  happy  one.  Hugh  went  to  his  box  and  took  out  a  strong 
jointed  bass-rod,  fitted  with  a  reel  and  two  hundred  feet  of  strong  line.  He 
adjusted  a  trolling-spoon,  and  when  all  was  ready,  he  cast  astern  and  waited  the 
result.  It  was  not  a  minute  before  something  struck  the  spinner,  and  his  rod 
was  bent  almost  double  in  a  trice. 

^'  Oh,  Neil,  Uncle  Charley,  Mr.  Marvin !  It  will  pull  me  in  !  Come  quick  !  " 
he  cried,  holding  on  manfully,  with  his  feet  braced  and  his  shoulders  raised. 

''  Loose  your  reel !  Give  it  line !  Let  it  run  !  "  cried  Mr.  Mar\dn  and  Uncle 
Charley  in  a  breath,  as  they  dropped  their  oars  and  sprang  to  Hugh's 
assistance. 

Uncle  Charley  stood  ready,  but  he  did  not  wish  to  interfere  unless  it  became 
absolutely  necessary.  Hugh  pressed  the  spring,  and  the  fish  ran  off  with  fifty 
feet  of  line  at  a  single  rush.  Then  began  a  desperate  struggle.  This  way  and 
that,  and  around  and  around,  the  strong,  gamy  victim  sped,  making  the  line 
sing  keenly,  while  the  reel  spun  like  a  top.  Uncle  Charley  acted  as  general, 
directing  Hugh  in  his  movements  with  such  words  as  ''  Give  it  a  little  more 
line  —  check  it  now  —  reel  up  fast  or  it  '11  foul  the  line  in  those  bushes  —  hold 
on,  it's  sulking  ;  now,  then,  give  it  a  little  jerk  !  " 

Every  one  on  board  was  excited,  and  watched  the  fight  with  great  interest. 
Hugh's  arms  and  hands  became  very  tired,  but  he  was  too  i)lucky  to  give  up. 
He  set  his  lips  firmly  and  kept  steadily  to  his  work. 

*'  You'U  conquer  it  directly,"  said  Mr.  Marvin  ;  '^  watch  it  closely  ;  don't  let  it 
have  any  slack;  keep  it  fighting ;  it'll  soon  tire.'' 

Hugh  felt  the  importance  of  his  position,  and  redoubled  his  efforts.  Suddenly 
the  fish  rose  to  the  surface  and  ''  somersaulted"  clean  out  of  the  water. 

"  My  !  what  a  big  fellow  it  is !  "  cried  Neil. 

Judge  was  stupefied  with  amazement.  He  never  before  had  seen  so  large  a 
fish  hooked. 

Tliis  last  maneuver  of  the  fish  Avas  very  trying  on  the  tackle,  but  it  stood  the 
strain,  and  Hugh  promptly  gave  out  some  line  as  another  surge  followed.  Some 
wide  circles  were  now  run  at  lower  speed  l)y  the  game,  and  then  Hugh  felt  the 
strain  grow  less. 

"Now,  give  him  the  butt!"  cried  Uncle  Charley. 


MARVIX  AN  J)  HIS  1U)Y  ifrxT?:ns'. 


113 


|l|l|l'!|l''"'T!'''''r'''?'r"T:''''''l"    |"|*;\ 


"Now  give  him  the  butt !"  cried  Uncle  Charley. 

Hucjli  checked  the  line  suddenly  and  firmly,  and  findinjj^  no  more  fight  at  the 
end  of  it,  reeled  it  up  slowly  until  the;  fish  was  drawn  to  the  surface  close  to  the 
boat. 

Ml'.  Mar^'in  had  the  gaff  ready,  and  leaning  over  the  gunwale,  hooked  the  hig 
fish  and  lifted  it  aboard.     It  was  a  cavalli  of  seven  or  eight  pounds  weight. 

That  night  they  anchored  under  a  bluff  and  went  ashore  to  cook  their  supper. 
As  there  was  no  danger  of  rain,  and  as  the  mosquitoes  were  troublesome  on  the 
water,  they  hung  their  hammocks  on  the  highest  ground  they  could  find.  Here 
the  wood  was  thin  and  the  trees  small,  though  at  a  few  rods  distance  began  a 
densely  timbered  swamp  that  looked  impenetrable.  They  had  eaten  nothing  but 
a  cold  luncheon  since  an  early  breakfast,  and  all  were  very  hungry.  It  was  while 
they  were  sipping  their  hot  coffee,  and  talking  over  the  day's  experience  by  a 
8 


114  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

dim  little  fire,  that  they  first  heard  a  peculiar  cry,  or  wail,  coming  out  of  the 
swamp.  Uncle  Charley  stopped  in  the  midst  of  a  sip ;  Mr.  Marvin  turned  his 
head  to  one  side  to  listen  intently  ;  and  Mr.  Gomez  said  : 

"  A  panther  ! '' 

Judge  jumped  as  if  something  had  bitten  him.  "  Ugh  !  Laws  o'  massy ! 
What  we  gwine  do  f "  he  cried,  for  he  was  badly  frightened. 

'*  Let 's  go  and  kill  it/'  said  Hugh. 

"■  How  far  away  do  you  think  it  is ! "  Neil  inquired  of  Uncle  Charley,  as  they 
heard  it  scream  again. 

''  It 's  right  down  there  in  the  swamp  ;  it  can  not  be  very  far  away/'  replied 
Uncle  Charley. 

''  I  thought  I  heard  dogs  barking  awhile  ago,"  remarked  Mr.  Gomez.  '*  I 
think  the  Indians  are  on  a  big  hunt.  Perhaps  they  have  driven  the  panther 
into  this  little  hummock." 

''  Dem  good-fur-nufi&n  Injuns  '11  jes'  scalp  us,  for  sho',"  muttered  Judge. 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  a  little  uneasily.  It  was  not  very  pleasant  to 
think  of  being  surrounded  by  savages  and  having  a  panther  prowling  about 
close  to  their  unprotected  camp. 

"  Oh,  the  Indians  are  harmless,"  said  Mr.  Gomez,  ''  but  we  '11  have  to  look  out 
for  that  panther;  for,  if  it  has  been  chased  for  a  day  or  two,  it  may  be  desperate 
and  dangerous." 

Arrangements  were  accordingly  made  to  divide  the  night  into  watches.  Neil 
and  Hugh  were  to  sit  up  until  twelve  o'clock,  after  which  Mr.  Marvin  and  Mr. 
Gomez  were  to  divide  the  rest  of  the  night,  allowing  Uncle  Charley,  who  had 
suffered  all  day  with  headache,  to  get  undisturbed  rest. 

A  sufficient  supply  of  dry  wood  had  been  gathered,  so  that  a  fire  could  be 
kept  burning  all  night.  The  moon  did  not  rise  until  about  ten  o'clock ;  but 
when  its  light  began  to  fall  across  the  landscape,  the  dark  and  forbidding- 
looking  swamp  in  which  the  panther  appeared  to  be  roaming  seemed  to  the 
young  watchers  doubly  wild  and  weird. 

Hugh  and  Neil  kept  close  to  the  fire,  with  their  guns  resting  across  their 
knees,  ready  for  any  emergency. 

At  last,  toward  eleven  o'clock,  the  occasional  screams  of  the  panther  suddenly 
ceased,  and  more  than  half  an  hour  passed  before  anything  further  was  heard ; 
tlien  all  at  on(;e  Neil  saw  a  large  animal  run  up  a  tree  and  take  a  cat-like  i)osition 
on  a  limb  a])Out  forty  feet  from  the  ground.  The  moonlight  fell  upon  it  from  such 
a  direction  that  its  outlines  were  strongly  marked  against  some  masses  of  dark 
foliage.  Neil  touched  Hugh's  arm  and  whispered:  ''Yonder  it  is,  see!  "  and  he 
])ointcd  toward  it  with  his  finger. 

Hugh's  giize  discovered  it  very  ([uiekly.  Both  boys  felt  a  strange  thrill  at 
sight  of  the  l)east.  They  elutched  their  guns  and  regarded  eaeh  other  for  a 
moment  in  silence.     Neil  was  the  first  to  s])eak. 


3[A1{\'IX  AX  J)    II  IS  HOY  HJ^NTKRS. 


115 


'^  Ai-e  you  afraid,  Huoh?''  lie  whispei-rd.     "  Shall  we  call  Uncle  Charley  and 
the  rest  ?" 

Hugh  caught  a  meaning  in  Neil's  words  not  directly  expressed  by  them,  and 
at  once  he  replied  : 

''No;  let's  kill  the  panther  ourselves.     My  gun  is  loaded  with  nine  buckshot 
in  each  barrel." 

"  So  is  mine,"  said  Neil.     "  Hinv  many  shells  have  youf " 

"  Ten,"  answered  Hugh,  after  counting  them. 

''  I  have  eight,"  said  Neil. 

"  Well,"  asked  Hugh, ''  what  do  you  say  l  " 

''  Let's  try  it  T)y  ourselves,"  was  Neil's  reply. 

''  All  right." 

They  both  rose  and  stood  for  a  moment  hesitating, 

''  We  must  have  some  plan  of  action,"  said  Neil. 

"  Let 's  slip  down  close  to  the  tree,  take  good  aim  at  the  beast,  fire  both  barrels 
at  it,  and  run  back  here,"  an- 
swered Hugh. 

"  Thirty-six  buckshot  ought 
to  kill  it,"  said  Neil. 

''  Why,  of  course  ! "  ex- 
claimed Hugh. 

''We  must  be  sure  not  to 
miss," cautioned  Neil;  "and  to 
aim  at  its  shoulder,"  he  added. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Hugh. 
"How  proud  Uncle  Charley 
will  be,  if  we  get  that  pan- 
ther's skin ! " 

The  tree,  upon  a  limb  of 
which  the  panther  had  sta- 
tioned itself,  was  about  two 
hundred  yards  distant  from 
the  fire. 

"  Come  on,  now,"  said  Neil, 

Side  l)y  side  the  boys  walked 
toward  the  tree.  The  panther 
for  it  crouched  flat  on  the 
tremulous  scream.  Hugh 
touched   his   arm    and  whis- 


'' <ind  don't  get  e\cited  " 

slo^^l^     and     cautiously 

saw    them,     no    doubt ; 

limb,  and  gave  forth  a  low, 

halted    involuntarily,    but    Neil 

pered:  "Come  on." 

The  panther  screamed  again  almost  immediately,  this  time  much  hjiuler  than 
before.  It  required  all  the  courage  the  boys  could  command  to  nuircli  straight 
on  toward  the  ferocious  beast ;  but  Neil  would  never  turn  back  when  once  he 


IIG 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


had  started,  and  Kngh  was  too  proud  to  abandon  liis  brother  in  the  face  of 
danger.  They  went  ou  until  they  were  within  fifty  feet  of  the  tree.  The 
pantlier  had  turned  its  face  in  their  direction,  and  its  eyes  glared  savagely  at 
them. 

''  Ready,  now  ! "  whispered  Neil. 

"  I  'm  ready,"  responded  Hugii. 

"  When  I  say  '  fire,' —  l)laze  away  !"  added  Neil. 

"  All  right,"  said  Hugh. 

They  raised  their  guns  and  aimed  as  steadily  as  they  could. 

"  Fire ! "  ex(.'laimed  Neil,  and  the  woods  fairly  shook  with  the  roar  of  their 
guns. 


MAliVIX  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS.  117 


XXIV. 

THE   PICKETS    DRIVEN   IX. 


WHEN  the  panther  screamed  the  second  time  after  Neil  and  Huj^h  started 
to  attack  it,  Mr.  Marvin  awoke,  and  was  surprised  to  see  that  the  young 
watchers  were  not  at  the  fire,  where  they  had  been  told  to  stay. 

He  sprang  from  his  hammock,  and  slipping  on  his  boots  (he  had  not  removed 
any  other  part  of  his  attire),  he  began  to  look  about  for  the  boys.  It  was  a  rather 
istartling  thought,  but  it  at  once  rushed  into  his  nuud  that  they  had  gone  on  a 
hunt  for  the  panther  !  He  remenil)ered  having  heard  Hugh  propose  something 
of  the  sort  while  they  were  eating  supper.  He  snatched  up  his  rifle,  and  was  on 
the  point  of  going  in  search  of  them,  when  the  four  reports  of  then-  double  shots 
rang  out  keen  and  clear  on  the  still,  night  air,  followed  by  an  angry  scream  and 
the  sound  of  scraping  and  scrambling  feet. 

Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  Gomez  w^ere  up  and  armed  in  a  twinkling.  Judge 
slept  on  in  blissful  ignorance  of  the  excitement  until  they  had  all  left  him  alone ; 
then,  aroused  by  the  shouts,  he  too,  sprang  up  half  awake,  and  aware  that  some 
very  exciting  event  was  happening.  Catching  sight  of  Hugh,  who  at  that  mo- 
ment rushed  up  to  the  fire,  the  young  darkey's  frightened  fancy  imagined  that 
some  terrible  beast  was  just  behind  him ;  and,  snatching  up  his  empty  flint-lock, 
he  hui'led  it  frantically  forward  as  the  best  effort  at  protection  which  his  scat- 
tered wits  were  capable  of  making.  The  gun  narrowly  missed  Hugh,  and,  as 
luck  would  have  it,  fell  plump  into  the  middle  of  the  fire.  Both  the  boys  were 
too  frightened  to  heed  it,  however,  and  by  the  time  Judge  discovered  it  and 
drew  it  from  the  fire,  the  stock  of  the  gun  was  almost  entirely  consumed. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Marvin's  Winchester  rifle  cracked  sharply,  once, —  twice, — 
three  times,  in  quick  succession. 

"  \¥liat  has  become  of  Neil  ? "  asked  Hugh,  as  he  turned  al)out  to  look  for 
him.     But  his  brother  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

After  the  boys  had  fired  at  the  panther,  as  described  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
they  stood  their  ground  long  enough  to  see  the  savage  animal  come  tearing 
down  the  tree,  apparently  badly  w^ounded  and  infuriated ;  and  then  Hugh  ran 
away  as  fast  as  he  could.  Until  he  reached  the  fire  he  had  thought  that  Neil 
was  close  at  his  heels. 

And  now  the  voice  of  Mr.  Marvin,  calling  to  Uncle  Charley  and  Mr.  (loniez, 
annoimeed  that  the  panther  had  been  killed.  Hugh,  all  excitement,  hurried 
back  to  the  spot.    The  panther  was  lying  dead  not  more  than  two  rods  from  the 


118  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

tree,  and  the  three  men  were  standing  around  it.  It  was  a  huge  beast,  with 
massive,  museuhir  legs  and  a  long,  lithe  body.  Its  head  was  like  a  cat's  head, 
and  its  teeth  were  long  and  shari*. 

"Where  is  Neil?"  inquired  Hugh,  suddenly  perceiving  that  his  brother  was 
not  present. 

"  Why !  Where  is  he,  indeed  ?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Marvin,  looking  hurriedly  around. 

"  Has  he  gone  f    Is  n't  he  here  ?"  cried  Uncle  Charley. 

*  Has  n't  he  been  seen  f  "  added  Mr.  Gomez.     "  Who  saw  him  last  \  " 

Hugh  felt  a  cold  chill  of  fear  and  dread  creep  over  him.  He  gazed  anxiously 
in  every  direction  ;  the  streaks  of  moonlight  and  places  of  dark  shade  made  the 
wood  appear  solemn  and  lonely. 

"  He  was  with  me  when  I  started  to  run  to  camp,"  said  Hugh,  "  and  I  haven't 
seen  him  since.     I  thought  he  turned  and  ran  just  as  I  did." 

"  You  had  better  call  him,  sir,"  suggested  Mr.  Gomez,  speaking  to  Uncle 
Charley,  who  at  once  cried  out :  "  Neil !  Neil ! "  as  loudly  as  he  could. 

But  no  answer  came. 

Uncle  Charley  called  again.  And,  this  time,  they  thought  they  heard  an 
answer,  but  far  away  in  the  swamp. 

Mr.  Gomez,  who  had  a  very  strong  voice,  now  called  out : 

"Ho!  Neil!" 

"  Whoope-e-e  ! "  came  the  answer,  apparently  from  the  very  middle  of  the 
swamp. 

"  That's  Neil's  voice  !  "  exclaimed  Hugh. 

"  But  how  did  he  ever  get  tliere  f  "  demanded  Mr.  Marvin. 

"  It  is  very  strange,  certainly,"  said  Uncle  Charley. 

They  waited  a  few  minutes,  and  then  called  again.  The  answer  came  quite 
promptly  and  from  about  the  same  place.  If  it  was  Neil,  he  had  not  come  any 
nearer  since  the  former  call. 

"What  can  the  boy  mean?  Why  doesn't  he  come  along?"  cried  Uncle 
Charley,  growing  impatient. 

"  He  does  n't  seem  very  far  away,"  said  Mr.  Marvin. 

"He  must  be  lost  — bewildered,"  said  Mr.  Gomez. 

Uncle  Charley  called  again.     The  answer  came  precisely  as  before. 

"  Well,  if  he^  wont  come  to  us  we  can  go  to  him,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mar^'in, 
shouldering  his  rifle,  "  who  '11  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Hugh  promptly. 

"  The  rest  of  you  drag  our  panther  up  to  the  fire,"  said  Mr.  Marvin  ;  ''  Hugh 
and  1  will  fetch  Neil  in  all  right.     Come  on,  Hugh." 

Hugh  followed  Mr.  Marvin  into  the  swamp.  They  nuide  their  Avay  slowly  and 
(•autiously  along  through  the  dark,  dense  thickets  of  bushes  and  vines  that  grew 
under  the  grand  live-oaks  and  water-oaks,  stopping  now  and  then  to  call  and 
get  an  answer  so  as  to  keep  the  proi)er  direction.     They  had  not  gone  more  than 


MARVIN  AND   HIS  BOY  UrNTKRS.  119 

three  or  four  hundred  yards  when  tlicy  suchlenly  came  to  the  edge  of  a  large 
pond  or  higoon  that  hiy  ghniniing  in  the  moonlight. 

Mr.  Marvin  stopped  and  looked  puzzled.  "  How 's  this  ? "  he  ejaculated,  as  he 
peered  out  over  the  water  without  being  al)le  to  discover  the  other  side.  ''  How 
could  he  have  crossed  this  pond  i  " 

He  called  Neil  again,  and  the  answer  seemed  to  come  from  a  point  just 
beyond  the  water,  or  somewhere  out  in  it,  they  could  not  be  sure  which. 

'*  Where  are  you,  Neil !  "  shouted  Hugh  in  his  shrill,  distinct  tenor  voice. 

*'  Here  I  am  !  "  returned  the  answer,  and  there  was  no  mistake  as  to  its  being 
Neil's  voice. 

Mr.  Marvin  tried  the  water,  but  found  it  too  deep  to  wade. 

"  Ask  him  how  he  got  there,"  he  said  to  Hugh. 

'^  How  did  you  get  over  there  ?  "  called  Hugh. 

''  I  don't  know,"  Neil  yelled  back. 

"Are  you  lost  ? "  cried  Mr.  Marvin. 

''Yes!" 

"Don't  move,  then,  till  I  come  to  you,  do  you  hear  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Neil. 

"  I  '11  have  to  go  and  fetch  one  of  the  canvas  boats,"  said  Mr.  Marvin  to  Hugh; 
"  can  you  stay  here  until  I  return?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Hugh,  although  he  was  sorely  afraid. 

"  I  '11  not  be  gone  long,  nothing  will  hurt  you,  don't  get  scared.  You  may 
keep  my  rifle  with  you,  I  have  a  pistol."  Saying  this,  Mr.  Marvin  turned  about 
and  started  back  to  the  camp  fire. 

Being  left  all  alone  in  the  midst  of  so  wild  and  dreary  a  place  was,  under  the 
circumstances,  a  very  great  trial  of  Hugh's  nerve.  Not  many  a  boy  of  his  age 
would  have  agreed  to  stay.  But  he  put  Mr.  Marvin's  rifle  down  by  his  side  and 
held  his  own  gun  ready  for  instant  use.  He  felt  afraid  even  to  call  to  Neil,  lest 
a  panther  might  hear  him.     Any  slight  sound  would  make  his  heart  flutter. 

When  Mr.  Marvin  had  been  gone  about  half  an  hour  something  began  to 
move  in  a  little  thicket  near  the  water's  edge  a  few  yards  from  where  Hugh  was 
crouching.  It  sounded  as  if  whatever  it  was  had  a  cat-like  way  of  creeping,  for 
its  foot-falls  pattered  very  lightly  on  the  damp  leaves.  Hugh  covered  with  his 
aim  the  point  whence  the  sounds  proceeded,  and  waited  for  the  animal  to  show 
itself.  This  was  not  long.  A  queer  head  with  a  sharp  nose  and  pointed  ears 
was  thrust  out  of  the  thicket.  Hugh  instantly  fired  at  it  with  both  barrels ; 
then  casting  aside  his  gun  he  seized  Mr.  Marvin's  and  held  it  ready  without 
moving  out  of  his  place.  A  scrambling  and  scuffling  sound  followed  his  shots. 
The  head  had  disappeared. 

Nearly  an  hour  passed  before  ]Mr.  Marvin  and  Mr.  Gomez,  accompanied  by 
Uncle  Charley  and  Judge,  came  with  the  smallest  one  of  the  canvas  boats. 
Upon  examination  it  was  found  that  Hugh  had  killed  a  fox. 


120 


BOYS'   BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 


.Mr.  Gomez  called  Neil  and  got  a  reply  at  once.  No  time  was  lost.  Mr. 
Marviu  put  the  liirlit  boat  upon  the  water,  and,  getting-  in,  pulled  away  across 
the  pond. 

The  rest  of  the  ])arty  waited  impatiently,  and  at  last  .saw  the  boat  returning. 

Neil  could  not  explain  how  he  came 
to  be  where  he  was  found. 

"  After  we  had  shot  at  tlie  i»au- 

llier,"  said   he,  ''I  turned   and   ran 

toward  the  fire,  which  I 

^Laming    between 


"The  panther  lay  outstretched  by  the  fire." 

the  trees.  I  thought  Hugh  was  following  close  after  me,  though  I  did  not  look 
back  to  see.  The  fire  seemed  to  me  to  shift  its  position  as  I  ran,  so  that  I 
often  had  to  change  my  course.  Presently  I  discovered  that  Hugh  was  not 
with  me.  This  frightened  me,  and  I  ran  still  harder,  thinking  I  would  reach 
the  fire  and  rouse  the  rest  of  you,  and  if  Hugh  did  not  come  in  immediately 
we  would  go  out  and  hunt  for  him.  But  just  then  the  fire  began  to  look 
as  if  it  were  zigzagging  a))out,  now  dancing  here,  now  glimmering  there,  and  I 
couhl  not  get  any  ch)ser  to  it.  I  ran  over  bushes  and  stum])led  against  logs.  At 
last  I  reached  the  edge  of  the  water,  whei-e  Mr.  Marvin  found  me,  and  there  I 
was  horrifii'd  to  see  the  light  I  had  thought  was  our  fii-e,  hovering  above  the 


MAKVIX  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS.  121 

surface  of  the  \nnn\,  wIh-it  vi'iy  soon  it  Hickt'n-d  and  went  out,  leaving  ine 
quite  bewildered  and  l(».st.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  ;  I  felt  as  if  I  were 
in  some  other  and  strange  world;  everything  had  so  mysterious  and  vague  a 
look  about  it.  The  dim  moonlight  and  the  ink-black  shadows  seemed  to  shift 
and  waver.  I  was  quite  exhausted  with  my  long  hard  run,  so  I  sank  down  on 
the  ground  and  gave  up.  When  I  heard  the  shooting,  it  did  not  sound  as 
if  it  could  be  in  the  direction  of  our  canij),  but  Avhen  you  called  me  I  knew 
your  voices." 

Hugh  was  as  glad  to  see  his  brother  as  if  Neil  had  returned  from  some  long 
journey  in  foreign  lands. 

They  all  went  back  to  camp,  Hugh  not  forgetting  to  carry  his  fox  along,  and 
when  they  arrived  at  the  tire  they  found  Judge's  old  gun  with  its  stock  burned 
in  two.  Of  course,  the  little  negro  was  inconsolable,  but  the  damage  could  not 
be  repaired.     The  panther  lay  outstretched  l)y  the  fire. 

''  This  big  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Marvin,  touching  the  dead  animal  with  his  foot, 
''  belongs  to  Neil  and  Hugh  ;  for,  altliough  I  finished  it,  their  shots  had  mortally 
wounded  it." 

''  That  panther  was  a  warrior,"  said  Uncle  Charley,  "  and  he  cluirged 
nobly." 

"  He  druv  in  de  pickets  and  scattered  de  scrimmagers,"  said  Judge,  grinning 
luguljriously. 

The  light  that  had  led  Neil  astray  coidd  only  be  accounted  for  on  the  theory 
that  it  was  a  ''Will-o'-the-wisp"  or  "Jack-o'-lantern,"  one  of  those  strange,  wan- 
dering, luminous  bubbles  sometimes  seen  in  swampy  places.  It  was  long  popu- 
larly supposed  that  the  "  Will-o'-the-wisp,"  or  Ignis  fatttiis,  was  some  goblin  lure 
or  trap,  and  many  a  traveler,  led  by  its  dancing  light  into  swamp  or  bog,  as 
was  Neil,  has  imagined  himself  tricked  by  an  evil  spirit.  But  science  explains 
the  singular  light  as  the  spontaneous  combustion  of  an  inflammable  gas  set  free 
from  the  decaying  animal  matter  that  sometimes  collects  on  the  surface  of  a 
marsh.  This  "  marsh  gas"  bubbles  up  through  the  water  and  bursts  into  flame 
when  thus  exposed  to  the  air.  So  Neil  was  the  victim  of  a  practical  chemical 
joke,  and  had  reached  the  other  side  of  the  swamp  by  running  around  it,  in  his 
pursuit  of  the  flickering  light. 


122 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SFOBTS. 


XXV. 


7s^— 


X 


A^ 


RULES   FOR   HANDLING   THE    Gl'N   IN   WTN'G- 
SHOOTING. 

y  NLY  your  success  iu  wouuding  so  dangerous 

a  beast  as  this  panther  excuses  your  fool- 

->^        hardiness,"    Mr.     Marvin     said    rather 

Vyf^    sliarply  to  Neil    and    Hugh    after   the 

&^^       camp    had    quieted    down    once    more. 

Indeed,  he  gave  the  boys  a  deserved  scolding 

for  having  ventured  to  attack  an  animal  so 

dangerous  as  a  panther. 

"  What  would  your  father  say,"  he  exclaimed, 

"  if  he  thought  your  uncle  and  I  would  permit 

you  to   take   so   terrible  a   risk?     But   for   the 

chance  fact  that  one  of  that  panther's  legs  was  broken 

by  a  shot,  it  would  almost  certainly  have  killed  one 

or  the  other  of  you." 

''  Papa  will  not  say  anything  about  that  when  we 
send  him  the  panther's  skin,"  said  Hugh.  "  He  '11 
think  that  we  've  become  better  hunters  than  he 
expected." 

Neil  did  not  say  anything.     He  felt  the  force  of 
The    startling    nature   of    the    adventure,   too,   had 
Next  morning  he  made  a  sketch  of  the  panther's 
head.     But  he  could  not  draw  the  Will-o'-the-wisp. 

They  remained  in  camp  at  this  spot  for  several  days,  during  which  time  they 
made  a  fine  collection  of  bird-skins  to  add  to  Mr.  Marvin's  stock.  Some  excellent 
shooting,  too,  they  had  at  wood-duck  and  teal ;  but  this  was  quite  limited,  as 
they  would  not  kill  a  single  bird  that  they  did  not  need  either  for  food  or  as  a 
specimen. 

It  was  during  their  stay  at  this  delightful  place  that  Neil  reduced  to  the  shortest 
form  Mr.  Marvin's  rules  for  wing-shooting  with  a  shot-gun.  Here  they  are.  just 
as  he  wrote  them  in  one  of  his  note-books : 


Mr.   Marvin's    remarks, 
impressed  him  strongly. 


MARVIN  AND  HIS  BOY  HUNTERS. 


123 


''S  be&.P  In  miindl  that  it  is  the  muzzle  of  the  gim  that  is  danger- 
ous; therefore,  never  allow  the  muzzle  to  point  toward  yourself  or  any 
other  person. 

|j^||iE¥KK put/eir Jbdimdi  over  the  muzzle  of  the  gun,  nor  alloAV  another  person 
I^SJi  to  handle  the  gun  while  it  is  loaded. 

j^PJISE^Breedb-lQacdio^  _|ME1  with  rebounding  hammers.  A  muzzle-loading  gun 
1.^^  is  both  inconvenient  and  dangerous  to  load. 

'lAtlliEILESS  |UIZ23  are  beautiful  and  convenient  weapons,  but  they  are  not 
fit  for  boys  to  use,  especially  boys  who  are  just  beginning  to  shoot. 

^^SKTEEM^iORC  |im  with  barrels  of  laminated  or  Damascus  steel,  horn  or 
l^ft!  rubber  breech-plate,  rebounding  hammers,  and  twenty-eight-inch  length 
of  barrels,  top-snap  action,  left  barrel  choke-bored  for  long  range,  right  barrel 
medium  choke  or  cylinder  bore  —  such  is  an  outline  from  which  any  good  gun- 
maker  can  build  a  boy's  gun  weighing  about  six  and  a  half  pounds. 

^R  liELLSfer  Siclb  a  |OT  should  be  loaded  with  three  drams  of  powder  and  one 
^2i'  ounce  of  shot.  Put  two  thick  wads  on  the  powder  and  one  on  the  shot. 
^MOld^P/ g^fieHof  kr|er'ti"4II'4W0odcffick  or  a  quail,  use  number  nine 
y^l  shot.  For  wood-duck,  prairie-chicken,  partridge,  teal,  and  the  like,  number 
six  shot  will  be  found  best  when  the  birds  are  old  ;  but  early  in  the  season  num- 
ber seven  will  be  better.  For  large  water-fowl  and  wild  tm-key,  number  four 
shot,  as  a  rule,  will  be  heavy  enough.  For  deer,  bear,  and  the  like,  you  ought 
to  have  a  gun  specially  bored  for  shooting  buck-shot,  as  it  is  sometimes  danger- 
ous to  use  such  large  shot  in  choked  barrels. 

|31lifl!l@^iP|fil4flyil|  Mrdi,  the  first  thing  to  know  is  that  you  must  not 
I^M  aim  directly  at  it  unless  it  is  flying  straight  and  level  away  from  you  at 
about  the  height  of  your  eye. 

^gPa^lbirigOes  iM^  Mlfl*^  FhiKg  lioe  ©f  f  Ii|!jt' your  aim  must  be  a  little 
^B  ahove  it,  but  if  it  flies  level  and  above  the  line  of  your  eye  straight  away, 
you  must  aim  a  little  below  it.     If  it  flies  to  the  left  or  to  the  right,  you  must 


124  BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 

aim  a  little  ahead  of  it.  lu  fact,  the  rule  is  to  so  fire  that  the  bird's  Hue  of 
flight  aud  the  liue  of  your  shot  exactly  iutercept  each  other. 

[Ui^!ftufS  mav3y^lir|in  iu  the  direction   of  the  bird's   flight,  but  do  uot 
ii  "  poke  "  or  follow.    Cover  your  poiut  of  aim  l)y  a  quick  and  steady  motion 
and  press  the  trigger  at  once. 

^lO0Twiil  bdtS  eyes  @^ei1,  so  as  to  see  whether  you  hit  or  miss.  If  you 
miss  with  your  first  barrel,  recover  your  aim  and  fire  the  other,  or  if  there 
are  two  or  more  birds  flushed  and  you  liit  with  your  first  barrel,  instantly  select 
another  bird  and  fire  your  second  barrel,  always  shooting  right  and  left. 

!#  "'sii^Lldft'',   or  ''points"  game,  you  should  not  hurry  to  flush 
it.     Be  deliberate,  always  trying  to  drive  your  birds  in  tlie  direction  of 
light  and  low  covert  instead  of  that  which  is  dense  and  high. 

lOST  ^iddy  flyiElt  birds,  like  snipe  and  plover,  will  rise  against  the  wind, 
so  that  the  time  to  shoot  them  is  just  as  they  turn.     To  do  this,  hunt 
them  down  the  wind  if  possible. 

ALWAYS  Mm\,  if  the  field  is  open,  for  your  bird  to  steady  itself  in  the  air 
y  before  you  aim.  It  will  generally  appear  one-third  farther  from  you 
than  it  really  is.  At  thirty  yards  distance  the  game  is  most  easily  killed  and 
the  shot  will  not  tear  it. 

^^jH  tafftroj  ^M4iL  and  praii'ie-chicken,  send  your  dog  to  retrieve  the  game 
t^!^!'  as  soon^s  it  falls,  because,  if  you  do  not,  a  wounded  bird  may  run  off  and 
be  lost,  to  perish  of  its  hurt.  A  true  hunter  is  always  anxious  to  prevent  un- 
necessary cruelty.  So  long  as  we  eat  flesh,  birds  and  animals  must  be  killed  for 
food,  but  we  should  avoid  brutality  in  putting  them  to  death. 

^^IW°S!nI©©TIINlG  is  fee  by  raising  the  gun  and  firing  it  as  soon  as  it  can  be 
L^fiail  leveled ;  a  mode  absolutely  necessary  in  sliooting  woodcock  and  quail  in 
high,  close  covert,  where  it  often  happens  that  the  gunner  merely  gets  a  glimpse 
of  his  game  aud  shoots  by  judging  its  position  at  the  time  of  firing. 

I'jEAL  (SiRd  e^W^-Wck  duck  are  very  fast  flyers,  often  going  at  the  rate  of 
sil  sixty-five  miles  an  hour.  How  far  ahead  of  a  green-winged  teal,  going 
at  that  rate  across  your  line  of  sight,  must  you  aim  when  the  bird  is  forty  yards 
distant,  if  your  shot  fly  at  the  average  rate  of  eight  hundred  feet  per  second  ? 

ILCOLATIEASfelfows?  it  takes  your  shot,  practically,  one-sixth  of  a  second 
to  go  forty  yards.  In  one-sixth  of  a  second  your  l)ird  Avill  fly,  ])ractically, 
fifteen  and  one-half  feet,  which  is  the  distance  you  must  aim  ahead  of  the  teal  at 
f(^rty  yards.  Of  ccmrse  this  is  not  the  exact  calculation,  but  it  is  practically 
near  enough.     A  few  trials  will  familiarize  the  operation,  and  your  eye  will 


3IAIiVIX  ANJ)   JUS  BOY  HUNTERS.  125 

soon  become  trained  in  judging  distances.  Perhaps,  nuder  ordinary  circum- 
stances, at  what  (ippedrs  to  be  forty  yards,  your  aim  ought  to  be  al)out  ten  feet 
ahead  of  your  bird,  if  it  is  flying  straight  across  your  line  of  siglit, —  and  less  if 
the  flight  is  diagonal. 

j^E^.^iiFyiar  fe^roe  is  flying  toward  you,  the;  best  rule  is  to  allow  it  to  pass,  so 
{Mi&uj  that  you  may  turn  about  and  shoot  it  going  from  you.  This  for  several 
reasons :  First,  because  the  breast-feathers,  of  water-fowl  especially,  are  very 
thick ;  secondly,  because  it  is  very  difficult  to  allow  for  the  flight  of  an  incoming 
bird  ;  and  thirdly,  because  in  shooting  a  l)ird  from  behind,  you  send  your  shot 
between  its  feathers,  and  your  game  is  cleanly  killed. 


^S  he  sure  that  your  Ihic  of  sight  is  along  tlie  middle  of  the  rib  that 
joins  the  barrels. 

^  qidi  slbeifiB^,  bear  in  mind  that  you  rarely  kill  your  game  at  a  longer 
range  than  thirty  yards,  and  that,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  your 
aim,  for  a  cross-flying  bird,  should  be  about  three  feet  ahead  of  it, —  though  no 
fixed  rule  can  be  given. 

Wyou  dreIbuBfffi|  in  company  with  others,  be  careful  and  courteous,  always 
EI  refraining  from  shooting  at  birds  that  are  flushing  nearer  to  your  com- 
panion than  to  you,  and  do  not  allow  your  gun,  under  any  circumstances,  to 
point  at,  or  in  the  direction  of,  any  human  being. 

^HIPEM  jour  |IJ3  at  the  breech  and  take  out  both  shells  before  climbing  over 
l^^ll  a  fence,  getting  into  a  wagon,  going  into  a  house,  or  handing  the  gun  to  a 
person  not  used  to  fire-arms. 

II^^EVEE  dr^J  a  gun  toward  you,  with  the  muzzle  foremost. 


PJ^ilEIlT  MH  Ulloidled  _§liro  with  the  same  care  that  you  would  a  loaded  one. 
ItigjIJ  "  I  did  not  know  it  was  loaded  "  has  caused  many  terrible  accidents. 

|^^P|Tislb©Sfi@  thoroughly  clean  and  dry  a  gun  after  it  has  been  used  all  day, 
^^M  and  when  not  in  use  it  should  be  kept  in  a  heavy  woolen  or  leather  case. 

liteijEVEl  sf?@il  at  harmless  and  worthless  birds  ''just  to  try  your  hand."'  Most 
l^^m  small  birds  are  pretty,  some  of  them  sing  sweetly,  and  nearly  all  of  them 
are  useful  as  insect-destroyei-s.  It  is  brutal  to  kill  them  for  any  other  than 
scientific  or  artistic  purposes. 

^^plnlEM  ©m  OTHI !r^,  observe  ever}i;hing,  so  as  to  remember  the  minutest 
y^^  details  of  visible  nature.  Knowledge  thus  gathered  is  invaluable.  Boys, 
when  hunting  together,  should  be  very  cautious  in  thick  covert ;  as  in  such 
places  one  may  be  qiiite  near  another  and  not  see  Ihtu. 


12G 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


XXVI. 

HOW  judge's  nose  was  bitten. 


w 


IT  would  take  a  long  time  aud  a  gi-eat 
deal  of  writing  to  tell  all  that  hap- 
pened during  the  ^\'inter  spent  by  our 
^  party  in  Southern  Florida.     "We  can 

not  follow  them,  step  by  step,  from 
one  good  hunting-ground  to  another. 
They  tried  alligator-shooting,  but 
Neil  and  Hugh  did 
The 
ing   of 
gi-eat, 


y^f^ 


"""'  A\ 


y. 


; 


'%>\lh2m-/'-'^- 


^  ^^1^. 


A  pair  of  art  critics. 


elumsy,  stupid  animal,  merely  to  get  its  teeth,  seemed  to  thfin  very  poor  sport; 
and  besides,  they  found  alligators  much  less  dangerous  lliaii  they  had  been  led 
to  believe  them  to  be. 

They  killed  some  of  the  smiill,  beautiful  deer  of  the  i)euiusula.  and  had  some 
lively  times  with  bear. 


MARVIX  AND   HIS   liOY  HUNTERS.  127 

Rattlesnakes  and  moccasins  were  common  in  tlu-  woods  and  swamps,  and 
qnite  frequently  the  warning  Avhii-  or  hiss  startled  the  boys  as  they  pushed 
through  the  brakes  of  cane  and  tangles  of  air-plant. 

Neil  made  rapid  progress  in  his  free-hand  sketching  from  nature,  both  with 
lead-pencil  and  in  colors.  His  sketch-books  contained  a  wonderful  variety  of 
subjects,  from  strange  insects  to  wild  beasts,  and  from  a  snudl  air-plant  spike  to 
a  huge  live-oak  tree,  draped  in  long  Spanish  moss. 

Heron-shooting  was  their  principal  business,  and  tlie  amount  of  plumes  col- 
lected was  very  large  and  valuable. 

One  day's  woodcock-shooting,  however,  was  more  to  the  boys'  taste  than  all 
the  other  sport  they  enjoyed  during  the  whole  winter.  They  found,  one  morn- 
ing, a  fine  lot  of  these  noble  game-birds  scattered  over  a  thinly  wooded  tract, 
where  clumps  of  bushes  and  tufts  of  wild  gi-ass  grew  in  a  rather  firm  black  mud, 
just  suited  to  the  habits  of  woodcock.  They  did  not  need  a  dog.  The  birds 
flew  but  a  short  distance  when  flushed  ;  and,  if  missed,  could  be  easily  followed 
so  as  to  be  found  again. 

Neil  and  Hugh  endeavored  to  observe  every  rule  of  shooting,  and  they  did 
venuu-kably  fine  work.  For  a  long  while  they  kept  exactly  even  in  the  number 
of  birds  killed,  and  the  race  grew  very  exciting. 

It  was  while  absorbed  in  this  sport  that  Hugh,  as  he  walked  through  a  patch 
of  saw-grass  beside  a  little  pool,  stepped  upon  an  enormous  alligator.  It  was 
dead,  but,  feeling  it  under  his  foot,  Hugh  looked  down  and  received  a  terrific 
scare.  The  reptile  was  fully  twelve  feet  long,  with  a  great  rusty  body  and 
sprawling  legs,  and  the  hunter  who  had  killed  it  had  i)ropped  its  terrible  mouth 
open  wide,  so  as  to  knock  out  its  teeth  when  it  had  lain  sufficiently  long.  Hugh 
jumped  as  high  and  as  far  as  he  could,  and  yelled  with  terror. 

''  Ugh !  Oh !  An  aUigator !  "  he  cried. 

Just  then  a  woodcock  rose  and  went  straight  away,  "  but  Hugh  was  so 
frightened  that  he  did  not  think  to  shoot,  and  Neil's  record  went  one  ahead. 
The  shock  of  his  fright  unsettled  Hugh's  nerves,  and  so  Neil  beat  him,  though 
the  contest  was  a  very  close  one. 

The  boys  went  back  to  camp  for  a  late  dinner,  and  the  sight  of  their  fourteen 
woodcocks  fairly  dazzled  Judge's  eyes.  As  a  special  favor,  Uncle  Charley 
loaned  Judge  his  little  sixteen-bore  double-barrel  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 
This  made  the  young  negro  very  happy.  His  face  shone  like  a  lump  of 
anthracite  coal  with  two  black  diamonds  in  it.  He  took  twenty  shells  and  went 
with  the  boys  when  they  returned  to  the  woodcock  grounds,  which  lay  but  a 
short  distance  from  the  camp. 

"Now,"  said  Hugh,  "here  goes  for  a  fair  match.  Let's  see  who'll  get  the 
biggest  bag  of  birds." 

The  challenge  was  quickly  accepted  by  Neil  and  Judge,  and  so  they  began  to 
quarter  the  ground — that  is,  tjiey  walked  across  it  in  diagonal  lines  back  and  forth. 


128  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

Judge  was  the  first  to  flush  a  woodcock.  It  rose  from  a  tuft  of  low,  wild 
grass  and  sped  away  to  his  left,  giving  him  a  very  easy  shot.  He  aimed  a  little 
ahead  and  fired,  cutting  it  down  in  fine  style.  Marking  where  his  bird  fell,  he 
let  the  breech  of  his  gun  fall  to  the  ground  and  began  fumbling  for  his  powder- 
flask.  It  was  gone.  He  had  forgotten  to  bring  it.  Here  was  a  most 
exasperating  piece  of  ill  luck.  He  picked  up  his  bird,  hastily  stuffed  it  into 
his  bag,  and  turned  to  hurry  to  camp  after  his  flask.  In  doing  so  he  flushed 
another  woodcock,  but,  having  no  ammunition  and  no  load  in  his  gun,  he  could 
not  shoot.     The  bird  went  straight  past  Hugh,  who  killed  it  easily. 

'* Where  are  you  going?"  inquired  Neil,  as  the  exasperated  darkey  was 
hurrying  by  him. 

''  Gwine  after  my  powder-flask ;  done  forgit  it  an'  lef  it  at  de  camp,''  said 
Judge  rather  spitefully. 

^'Wh}',  what  do  you  want  of  your  powder-flask?"  demanded  Xcil  in  a 
surprised  tone. 

"  How's  I  gwine  load  my  gun?"  responded  Judge,  still  trudging  on. 

"Who  ever  heard  of  loading  a  breech-loader  from  a  powder-flask?"  exclaimed 
Neil,  beginning  to  laugh. 

''  Dar  now !  "  cried  Judge,  stopping  short  and  staring  at  the  gun  he  held  in 
his  hand,  "  dar  now  !  I  fo't  I  had  de  ole  flint-lock.  I  done  forgot  'bout  Mahs' 
Charley  len'  me  his'n." 

The  left-hand  barrel  of  the  gun  was  still  loaded  and  cocked. 

''An'  I  jis'  stood  dar  an  let  Mahs'  Hugh  kill  my  oder  bird !  Guess  I  done  gone 
'stracted,  anyhow ! " 

Neil  laughed  uproariously  and  called  Hugh  to  join  in  the  joke.  Judge  looked 
sheepish  and  begged  them  not  to  teU  of  him  when  they  should  get  back  to  camp. 

It  was  some  time  before  hunting  was  resumed.  This  joke  on  Judge  was  so 
funny  to  the  boys  that  they  could  hardly  stop  laughing. 

"  I  'knowledge  dat  I  been  grievin'  'bout  dat  ole  gun  gittiu'  burnt  up,  an'  I  'low 
hit  onsettled  my  gumption,"  said  Judge,  beginning  to  laugh,  too;  "dat  wus  a 
mighty  sweet-shootin'  ole  gun,  an'  I  hated  to  see  her  burnt  dat  way." 

Wlien  they  began  hunting  again,  Hugh  and  Judge  each  had  a  bird,  and  Neil 
none ;  but  the  score  soon  changed,  for  Neil  achieved  a  feat  very  rarely  accom- 
plished. He  made  a  "double  shot"  on  woodcock,  killing  the  brace  in  perfect 
style,  right  and  left.  This  put  him  ahead  of  the  others  and  made  the  race  grow 
interesting. 

Judge  next  missed  a  fine  strong  bird  that  flew  quartering  to  liis  right,  and 
Hugh  killed  it  at  fifty  yards  with  his  left  barrel. 

This  is  what  sportsmen  sometimes  call  wiping  the  eye  of  the  one  who  missed. 

"  Wiped  your  eye !  "  exclaimed  Hugh,  as  he  liagged  the  bird. 

"  Dis  'ere  gun  shoot  too  quick,"  said  Judge ;  "  it  make  me  dodge  !  I  done 
miss  dat  bird  'fore  I  got  ready." 


3IAMV1N  AN  J)    HIS   IIOY  HUNTERS. 


129 


The  next  flush  was  by  Neil,  ^vho  failed  to  kill  on  account  of  an  intervening 
bush.  Hugh  banged  away  and  missed  also;  and  so  (li<l  Judge,  who  just  then 
stumbled  against  the  nose  of  the  dead  alligatoi-  and  fell  sprawling  along  its 
rusty  back. 

''Look  out!"  shouted  Hugh,  in  a  s])irit  of  mischief.  "It's  an  alligator!" 
With  a  piereing  shriek,  Judge  scrambled  off  on  his  hands  and  knees,  scream- 
ing at  the  top  of  his  voice.     Then  he  jumped  up,  and  leaving  Uncle  Charley's 


'  Judge  fell  sprawling  along  its  rusty  back." 

gun  lying  where  he  had  dropped  it  when  he  fell,  he  started  for  camp  as  hard  as 
he  could  run. 

Neil  picked  up  the  gun,  and  seeing  that  it  was  gi-owing  late,  he  and  Hugh 
followed  after  the  flying  negro. 

When  they  reached  camp,  Judge  was  gesticulating  and  posturing  and 
pointing  in  a  vain  effort  to  relate  his  teri'ible  adventure  to  the  men.  The  most 
realistic  part  of  it  was  the  fact  that  Judge  had  actually  skinned  his  nose  on  the 
horny  hide  of  the  alligator,  and  persisted  in  asserting  that  he  had  been  bitten  ! 

''  Dat  beas'  jis'  kep'  a-bitin'  tiway,  an'  I  tlio't  I  done  clean  gone,  fo'  sho' !  "  he 
exclaimed. 


130  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


XXVII. 

HOME   AGAIN. 

ALL  things  have  an  end,  and  so  tlie  time  came  at  last  for  our  little  party  to 
l)id  farewell  to  Florida. 
The  trip  up  the  coast  to  Cedar  Keys,  and  thence  to  St.  Mark's,  was  performed 
in  a  leisurely  way,  the  sloop  anchoring  for  a  day  or  two  here  and  there,  the  boys 
seizing  every  opportunity  to  make  a  l)ag  of  snipe  or-  shore  birds,  or  to  shoot 
herons  for  Mr.  Marvin. 

But  the  nearer  they  approached  home  the  more  impatient  at  delay  they  all 
became,  and  it  was  with  a  sense  of  intense  relief  that  they  stood  finally  by  the 
little  railroad  station  at  St.  Mark's,  ready  to  take  the  cars  for  the  North,  and 
home  !  They  bade  good-bye  to  Mr.  Gomez  with  regret,  for  they  had  learned  to 
like  him  very  much  during  their  long  voyage. 

At  Tallahassee  they  took  the  dogs  aboard.  Don  and  Belt  and  Snip  and  Sly 
wriggled  all  over  with  happiness  to  be  with  their  masters  once  again.  They  had 
been  well  kept  however,  and  were  as  sleek  as  moles. 

From  Tallahassee  Mr.  Marvin  shipped  his  plumes  to  New  York,  and  his  l)ird- 
skins  to  the  Smithsonian  Institute.  He  received  orders  here  also,  for  it  was 
now  quite  late  in  April,  and  the  season  for  nest-hunting  and  egg-collecting  was 
at  hand,  and  some  of  his  customers  and  patrons  desired  him  to  begin  work  for 
them  in  that  line  at  once.  So  he  had  no  time  to  lose.  He  could  not  even  go  so 
far  as  Uncle  Charley's  farm  with  Neil  and  Hugh,  but  had  to  part  from  them  at 
Montgomery,  Alabama,  whence  he  went  westward. 

The  boys  both  cried  when  Mr.  Marvin  left.  He  had  seemed  to  them  almost 
like  an  elder  brother.  But  he  promised  to  come  and  have  a  grouse-hunt  with 
them  in  Illinois  some  time  during  the  next  season. 

Samson  was  overjoyed  when  they  reached  Uncle  Charley's  home,  and  he 
asked  hundreds  of  questions ;  and  Judge  told  him  some  wonderful  stories,  that 
made  his  old  eyes  stare. 

Neil  and  Hugh  were  now  in  a  great  hurry  to  return  to  Belair  and  see  their 
father  and  talk  with  the  boys.  The  very  next  day  they  left  Tennessee,  and  in 
due  time  stepped  off  the  train  at  the  Belair  station  platform.  Everything  looked 
familiar  and  natural,  and  strange  to  say,  the  first  person  Hugh  saw  was  Tom 
Dale  !    ''  Why,  Tom,  I  thought  you  were  dead  !  "  he  cried,  running  to  him. 

''  Hello !  Is  this  you,  Hugh  {  and  if  there  is  n't  old  Neil !  Why,  how  brown 
you  are,  boys  !  and  what  a  jolly  time  you  must  have  had  ! "  Tom  cried,  in  an 
ecstasy  of  delight. 


7V/17.']7.Y  AX  J)   I/IS   HOY  IIUNTEliS. 


131 


^ili(l  Neil :    "  I  Siiw  it 


111 


pap 


''  Bnt  I  thouglit  you  were  drowned 
l)apa  wrote  us  that  you " 

"  Oh,  they  were  too  fast/'  exchiimed  Tom,  *'  I  eaiiie  to  aud  got  over  it.  I  guess 
I  was  dead  for  a  day  or  two,  though.  It  was  a  eh>se  shave  !  The  doctors  gave 
me  up,  and  all  that."     Tom's  face  grew  sober  enough  as  he  spoke. 

The  failure  of  a  package  of  letters  and  i)apers  to  reach  them  at  Punta  Rassa, 
liad  kept  Neil  aud  Hugh  in  the  dark  as  to  Tom's  recovery.  The  first  account 
of  the  accident  was  the  only  one  that  they  had  received. 

The  news  of  the  return  of  the  hoy  hunters  rapidly  spread  through  Belair.  Tom 
Dale  was  (juite  a  hero,  simply  because  he  had  been  the  first  to  see  and  talk  with 
them. 

Neil  and  Hugh  jumped  into  a  carriage  aud  were  driven  straight  home, 
while  their  '^ plunder"  and  luggage  followed  them  in  the  village  express 
wagon. 

Mr.  Burton  was  taken  quite  by  surprise  when  liis  boys,  all  weather-browiu-d 
and  lusty,  rushed  into  the  library  and  fell  upon  him  with  their  rousing  caresses. 
They  almost  tumbled  him  out  of  his  chair ;  his  sixH'tacles  fell  off,  and  his  face 
was  covered  with  kisses. 

Of  course  the  boys  immediately  began  to  tell  him  all  about  their  wanderings 
and  adventures,  but  it  was  many  days  before  they  had  finished. 


One  of  Hiigrh's  trophies. 

Neil  proposed  to  invite  all  their  young  friends  to  come  to  spend  an  evening 
with  them,  so  that  they  might  have  a  good  time  talking  together  over  what  had 
happened  in  Belair,  as  well  as  what  had  been  done  in  the  far  Southern  hunting- 
grounds,  during  the  winter. 


132  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

'*  That  is  just  the  thing,"  said  Hugh,  "  and  we  '11  hang  up  all  your  pictures 
and  sketches  in  the  parlor,  and  set  up  our  stuffed  birds,  and  display  our  collec- 
tion of  eggs.  In  fact,  we  '11  have  a  genuine  —  what  do  you  call  it  in  French  ? — 
siilou  i*'' 

"  That  would  be  interesting,"  assented  Neil.  "  I  think  all  the  boys  and  girls 
would  enjoy  it.     Suppose  we  do  it  ?  " 

"  Shall  we  invite  the  girls,  too!"  inquired  Hugh. 

''  Certainly,"  said  Neil;  "  gii'ls  like  fine  art  quite  as  much  as  boys,  you  know." 

He  emphasized  the  word  "  fine  "  as  if  he  meant  to  make  fun  of  his  sketches, 
but  Hugh  knew  he  was  proud  of  them. 

*'  What  do  you  say,  Papa? "  said  Hugh,  turning  to  his  father. 

''  I  think  the  plan  an  excellent  one,"  replied  Mr.  Burton.  "■  I  'U  see  that  your 
guests  have  a  good  supper  and  the  freedom  of  the  house  from  six  to  eleven  in 
the  evening." 

The  boys  were  delighted,  and  went  to  work  with  a  will.  Mr.  Burton's  large 
parlor  was  profusely  decorated  with  Neil's  sketches  and  the  many  trophies  of 
the  two  lads'  prowess  with  the  gun.  More  than  fifty  guests  were  present,  and 
every  one  declared  it  to  be  the  happiest  social  event  ever  enjoyed  by  the  boys 
and  girls  of  Belair. 


HINTS   ON  TRAP-SHOOTING 


By  Maurice  Thompson. 


("CERTAINLY  those  who  have  read  with  care  all  the  preceding  chapters 
J  of  '^  Marvin  and  His  Boy  Hunters,"  should  by  this  time  have  become  quite 
well  grounded  in  the  general  theory  of  field  shooting  with  the  modern  fowling- 
piece— the  double-barreled  shot-gun.  But  there  is  a  branch  of  shooting,  giving 
most  excellent  training  to  the  eye  and  hand,  which  may  be  here  described  for 
the  benefit  of  those  boys  who  may  some  day  desire  to  become  members  of  a 
gentleman's  gun-club. 

Shooting  at  glass  balls  or  at  the  brittle  clay  pigeons,  thrown  frcuu  a  spring- 
trap,  has  iiappily  superseded  the  barbarous  custom  of  using  live  birds  for  the 
purposes  of  practice.  For  years  there  has  been  growing  among  refined  gentle- 
men a  sentiment  against  the  killing  of  any  bird  or  other  animal  merely  as  a 
test  of  skill  with  any  weapon.  Trap-shooting,  however,  furnishes  sport  of  a 
most  excellent  kind,  especially  where  game  is  not  to  be  found;  and  now 
that  glass  balls  and  clay  saucers,  called  clay  pigeons,  have  been  substituted 
for  the  live  birds  formerly  used,  it  may  be  safely  recommended  if  conducted 
strictly  as  a  sport,  and  not  debased  into  a  sporting  vehicle  for  the  ungentlemanly 
habit  of  betting  and  for  the  tricks  of  gamblers. 

The  trap  used  in  shot-gun  practice  is  made  \\A\\\  a  spring  lever  wliieh  throws 
into  the  air,  to  be  shot  at,  a  "  clay  pigeon  "  or  a  hollow  glass  ball.  The  shooter 
usually  stands  at  from  eighteen  yards  to  thirty-one  yards  distance  from  the 
trap.  At  an  agreed  signal  from  the  shooter  a  person  employed  for  that  purpose 
springs  the  trap,  and  the  ball  or  clay  pigeon  is  shot  at  while  whirling  swiftly 


134  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

through  the  air.  The  surface  presented  by  these  missile  targets  is  quite  small, 
and  consequently  a  very  close-choked  gun  is  required  in  trap-shooting. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  grooving  popularity  of  glass-ball  and  pigeon- 
shooting  in  Europe  and  America  has  done  a  great  deal  for  the  improvement  of 
guns.  Gentlemen  of  wealth  and  high  intelligence  have  discovei'ed  how  mucli 
of  amusement  and  recreation  is  to  be  derived  from  the  traps  and  have  seen  the 
inefBciency  of  the  old  style  of  boring  gun-barrels.  This  has  led  to  a  system  of 
experiments  which  has  brought  to  its  present  state  of  perfection  the  method  (or 
rather  methods)  of  choke-boring. 

It  has  been  ascertained  by  accurate  trials  that  the  best  system  of  choke- 
boring  will  very  nearly  if  not  quite  double  the  effect  of  the  larger  gauge  of  guns 
at  from  forty  to  forty-five  yards  range.  Guns  of  from  IG  to  20-gauge  are  prob- 
ably less  improved  by  the  operation.  A  16-gauge  gun  I  have  found  admirably 
suited  to  all  but  the  heaviest  shooting,  when  bored  as  follows :  Right-hand  barrel 
modified  choke,  left-hand  barrel  full  choke. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  choke-bored  barrels  rarely  shoot  number  seven  shot 
well.  The  reason  for  this  has  never  been  satisfactorih^  explained.  The  assertion 
has  also  been  made  that  this  criticism,  to  a  certain  degi-ee  applies  to  all  the  odd 
immbers  of  shot,  but  I  have  not  been  able  to  verify  this. 

In  shooting  at  flying  balls  or  clay  pigeons,  especially  where  the  trap  is  so  set 
that  the  object  flies  "  from  the  shooter,"  that  is,  in  a  direction  away  from  him, 
the  shot  must  be  made  quickly  or  the  gun  must  concentrate  its  shot  in  the 
highest  degree,  to  insure  a  successful  hit ;  for  the  strength  of  the  trap-spring  is 
such  that  the  object  flies  very  rapidly  for  the  space  of  a  second  and  a  half  at 
the  start. 

The  glass  and  clay  of  which  missile  targets  are  made  can  not  be  successfully 
broken  by  anything  smaller  than  number  eight  shot,  and  as  number  seven  shot 
rarely  pattern  well  in  a  choked  barrel,  I  advise  the  use  of  number  six.  Here, 
however  arises  another  difficulty.  A  well-choked  gun  may  fail  to  pattern 
number  six  shot  well.  It  is,  therefore,  of  the  first  importance  for  the  owner  of 
a  gun  to  find  out  l)y  careful  target-trials,  first,  what  sized  charge  best  suits 
the  })arrels,  and  second,  what  sized  shot  his  gun  will  i)attern  best.*  These  trials 
should  be  made  at  a  white-paper  target  at  forty  yards  range.  If  the  gun  can 
not  be  made  to  closely  pattern  either  of  the  sizes  six  and  seven,  then  it  will  not 
be  a  first-class  trap-gun,  for  number  eight  is  too  light  a  size  and  number  five 
does  not  give  a  sufficient  number  of  pellets  to  the  lotid.  I  admit  that  I  have 
seen  some  fine  shooting  done  at  clay  pigeons  with  number  eight  shot,  but 
such  performances  are  the  exception,  and  not  the  rule.  The  fact  still  re- 
mains that  num])er  eiglit  jji'llets  must  be  sjied  Avith  enormims  force  to  do  the 

*  All  these  terms,  "  choke-bored,"  *'  pattern,"  etc.,  were  fully  cxplainod  in  the  story  of  '"  Mar- 
vin and  His  Boy  Huuters." 


HINTS   OX  TliM'-SllOOTINa.  135 

exeeution  required,  and  tlie  excessive  recoil  aiid  the  great  weight  <»f  gun-metal 
required,  are  fatal  objections  when  the  shooter  is  not  an  athlete.  The  i)erfect 
theory  of  trap-shooting  is  that  whenc^ver  tiie  shooter  correctly  delivers  his 
shot,  the  niissile  target  shouhl  he  hit  and  broken.  This  theory  requires  a 
gun  that  will  so  closely  pattern  its  shot  and  send  them  with  such  force  that 
the  object  shot  at  will  be  hit  hard  eiu)ugh  and  with  a  sufficient  number  of 
pellets  to  break  it;  all  tliis,  too,  Avithout  an  over-weiglit  of  gun  or  any  hurtful 
recoil. 

Trap-shoothig,  viewed  from  the  })()iiit  of  view  of  h()ii<»ral)h'  sport, —  mere 
friendly  and  innocent  competition  with  guns, —  ouglit  not  to  partake  of  the 
character  of  a  trial  in  physical  brute  endurance.  It  should  be  a  test  of  skill ; 
that  and  that  alone.  It  is  no  proof  that  one  man  is  a  better  shot  than  another 
because  he  is  physically  better  able  to  stand  the  recoil  of  a  ten-gauge  gun  and 
six  drams  of  powder !  In  a  fair  contest  where  skill  is  the  winning  el(;ment,  all 
guns  and  charges  should  be  alike  in  weight,  gauge,  and  measurement. 

One  great  good  (iomes  of  intelligent  pi*actice  at  missile  or  ILxed  targets,  viz. : 
It  soon  convinces  the  young  sportsman  of  the  folly  of  ovcu'-loading  his  gun,  one 
of  the  most  dangerous  of  experiments.  He  quickly  fiuds  out  that  his  gun 
performs  best  with  a  certain  amount  of  powder  and  a  fixed  quantity  of  shot, 
and  that  to  use  any  more  or  any  less  will  weaken  the  effect. 

Then,  too,  gun-clubs  have  certain  rules  governing  shooting  wliich  tt'ud  to 
encourage  correct  habits  in  handling  the  gun. 

The  following  rules  for  testing  the  shooting  value  of  a  gun  for  trap  purposes 
should  prove  of  practical  benefit : 

Procure  some  clay  pigeons  and  suspend  one  with  its  edge  turned  toward 
the  point  from  which  you  intend  to  shoot.  Close  behind  the  pigeon  spread  a 
three-foot  white-paper  target.  You  are  now  ready  to  test  your  gun  at  any 
fixed  distance.  Pace  off  about  forty  yards.  Now,  in  looking  at  your  target 
from  this  distance  you  see  the  clay  pigeon  hanging  with  its  smallest  dimen- 
sions exposed  against  a  white  background.  Take  deliberate  aim  at  the  pigeon 
and  fire.  If  you  break  it  the  indications  are  strong  that  your  gun  is  a  good 
one  ;  but  carefully  examine  the  pattern  of  the  shot  on  the  paper  target,  for  it 
may  have  been  a  stray  pellet  that  broke  the  pigeon.  Many  trials  of  this  kind 
with  different  amounts,  and  sizes  of  shot  and  varjdng  charges  of  powder,  will 
enable  you  to  ascertain  two  most  important  things  at  once:  the  best  charge 
and  the  most  effective  size  of  shot,  as  well  as  tiie  l)est  power  of  your  gun 
at  the  least  exposure  of  the  missile  target. 

What  is  called  "double-bird"  practice  at  the  traps  is,  perhaps,  the  best 
possible  f<n'  training  one's  eyes  and  hands.  In  this  performance  two  traps  are 
sprung  at  once.  They  are  usually  placed  about  five  yards  apart,  so  that  the 
two  missiles  will  not  interfere  with  eacli  otlioi-  in  tlicir  fliglit.  The  shooter 
stands,  as  a  rule,  eighteen  yards  fi-om  tiir  1ra[). 


13G  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

In  shooting  at  a  rising  missile,  the  aim  must  be  a  little  above  it.  If  at  a 
falling  missile,  the  aim  must  be  below  it.  In  cross-shooting,  too,  the  aim  must 
be  ahead  of  the  missile.  Of  course  the  distance  and  rapidity  of  the  flying  target 
must  be  taken  into  consideration,  and  nothing  but  careful  practice  can  disclose 
the  best  method  of  execution.  The  secret  of  success  lies  in  so  aiming  as  to  have 
the  center  of  the  charge  of  shot  strike  the  object  aimed  at ;  for  these  central 
pellets  have  the  greatest  force  and  the  best  distribution,  always  provided  that 
your  gun  is  correctly  bored. 

It  is  well  for  the  young  shooter  to  bear  in  mind  that  hitting  a  clay  pigeon 
with  but  one  pellet,  no  matter  with  what  force,  will  not  always  break  it,  or  if  it 
do,  the  fracture  may  be  so  slight  as  not  to  be  observed.  This  is  why  a  close- 
shooting  gun  is  quite  as  necessary  as  a  hard-hitting  one  for  trap  purposes. 

The  shooter  in  taking  his  stand  before  the  traps  must  assume  such  an  attitude 
as  will  easily  balance  his  whole  body  and  leave  his  arms  free  for  rapid  and 
facile  movements.  The  weight  should  rest  about  equally  on  the  feet,  the  upper 
portion  of  the  body  slightly  inclined  forward,  the  left  foot  somewhat  advanced. 
The  gun  should  rest  lightly  in  the  hollow  of  the  left  hand,  whilst  the  right  hand 
firmly  grasps  the  pistol-grip,  the  forefinger  just  touching  the  trigger.  In  this 
position  the  butt  of  the  gun  should  be  below  the  right  elbow,  the  muzzle 
pointing  upward,  and  away  from  the  shooter,  at  an  angle  of  about  forty-five 
degrees  with  the  horizon.  This  is  the  position  of  ''  Ready."  At  the  command 
"Pull,"  given  by  the  shooter,  the  assistant  pulls  the  string  that  discharges  the  trap. 

The  change  from  the  position, ''  Ready,"  to  that  of  fii-ing,  involves  a  movement 
of  the  right  hand  upward  and  backward,  by  which  the  gun,  turning  in  the  left 
hand,  as  on  a  pivot,  comes  to  the  level  of  the  right  eye,  its  l)reech  or  heel-plate 
settling  firmly  into  the  hollow  of  the  right  shoulder. 

Care  should  be  taken,  in  bringing  the  gun  to  the  shoulder,  to  have  the  rib 
(between  the  barrels)  come  directly  nnder  the  right  eye  and  exactly  parallel 
with  its  line  of  sight,  for  a  very  slight  angle  between  the  line  of  vision  and  the 
line  of  the  gun-barrels  will  destroy  the  aim. 

Both  eyes  should  be  kept  open  in  aiming,  but  the  shooter  must  be  certain  to 
always  take  his  aim  with  his  right  eye.  With  some  persons  this  wiU  be  difficult, 
but  careful  practice  will  overcome  the  trouble. 

When  the  trap  has  been  sprung  and  the  missile  target  thrown  into  tlu'  air, 
the  shooter  must  fix  his  eyes  quickly  and  steadily  on  his  aim,  that  is,  the  point 
he  wishes  to  cover  with  his  gun-sight  (at  the  same  time  raising  his  gun  and 
carrying  it  by  a  single  motion  to  his  shoulder  so  that  the  barrels  will  be  directed 
exactly  at  this  point),  and  fire.  It  requires  long  and  patient  practice  to  fix  one 
in  the  habit  of  mechanically  executing  the  movements  of  body,  hands,  and  eyes 
necessary  to  a  successful  shot.  Of  course  at  tlie  point  of  firing,  three  tilings 
must  be  d<mc  simultaneously :  Fixing  the  point  of  aim  with  the  eye,  bringing 
the  gun  to  bear  exactly  on  that  point,  and  pulling  the  trigger. 


HINTS  ON  TRAP-SHOOTING. 


137 


The  orcat  difference  be- 
tween ;i  calm,  steady,  swift 
motion  and  a  hurried  one 
ninst  l)e  thoroughly  under- 
stood. All  tlie  movements 
of  a  really  well -trained 
s] looter  a])pear  to  be  much 
slowei-  than  they  actually 
are,  wliilst  the  jerky  mo- 
tions of  a  poor  shot  appear 
even  more  rapid  and  care- 
less than  they  would  if 
successful. 

The  young  shooter  should 
begin   his   practice   deliber- 
ately.    He  should  not  try  to 
be  quick  until  after  he  has 
learned  to  be  correct.     But 
on  the  other  hand,  he  must 
not  be  content  to  be  a  "poke- 
;    that    is,    he    must    never 
take  bis  aim  by  following  the  fly- 
ing  object  with   his    gun.     Take 
your  aim  by  a  swift,  direct  motion 
and  fire  on  the  instant !    Of  course 
this    is    the    method   followed    in 
^^snap-shooting"  at  game-birds,  in 
the  field,  and  is  recommended  as 
decidedly  the  best  in  all  kinds  of 
shootingj    save   at   wild    fowls    at 
long  range.     Its  superiority  over 
every  other  method  in  trap-shoot- 
ing is   1  rincipally  that  it  enables 
the   nuirksman    to  hit   the   missile 
before    it    has    gone   beyond    safe 
range,  for  the  sooner  the  target  is  hit  the  harder  the  blow  and  the  greater  the 
number  of  pellets  with  which  it  will  be  struck. 

The  observant  young  shooter  will  not  be  long  in  discovering  that  to  beconu^  a 
''fine  shot"  he  must  drill  himself  until  the  whole  operation  of  aiming  and  firing 
can  be  done  mechanically,  without  fori^hought,  lagging,  hesitation,  or  hurry, 
and  yet  with  all  the  cei-tainty  and  regularity  of  tli(>  motions  of  a  well-adjusted 
machine. 


138 


BOYS'   BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 


I  have  observed  that  some  of  the  finest  shots  in  this  country  (notably  Captain 
Bo^ardiis)  get  their  aim  without  any  perceptible  upward  or  downward  motion 
of  the  gnu  after  it  has  })een  put  against  the  shoulder.  Occasionally  I  have  seen 
Captain  Bogardus  catch  a  second  aim  with  surprising  quickness  when,  for  some 
reason,  the  first  has  not  pleased  him,  but  I  have  never  seen  him  appear  to 
"poke"  after  the  ball  or  pigeon. 

The  f(n-ming  of  gun-clubs  in  the  United  States,  more  than  any  other  influence, 
has  helped  toward  securing  stringent  legislation  for  the  preservation  of  game 
in  the  various  States  and  has  led  to  a  wide  dissemination  of  much  useful 
knowledge  in  the  field  of  natural  history. 


'A  student  of  natural  history. 


FISHING. 


"Oh!  the  gallant  fisher's  life, 
It  is  the  best  of  anj> ; 
'T  is  full  of  pleasure,  void  of  strife, 
And  't  is  beloved  of  niatiy." 

IzAAK  Walton. 


FLY-FISHING    FOR    BLACK    BASS, 


By  Maurice  Thompson. 


ONE  exciting  and  healthful  sport  has  been  enjoyed  exclusively  by  grown-up 
men  ;  but  I  think  that  boys  and  girls  could  enjoy  it  as  well.  I  speak  of 
ttv-fishing,  by  which  is  not  meant  fishing  for  flies  —  a  thing  not  to  be  classed 
with  good  sports —but  angling  for  fish  ^xith.  artificial  flies,  a  means  of  outdoor 
recreation  that  has  been  enjoyed  by  many  great  and  good  men  for  hundreds  of 
years.  Of  course  you  must  not  understand  me  to  mean  that  any  good  man  ever 
fished  hundreds  of  years,  though  Izaak  Walton,  the  most  famous  of  all  anglers, 
was  nearly  a  century  old  when  he  died,  and  he  spent  much  of  his  long,  happy 
life  beside  the  brooks  and  rivers,  in  pursuit  of  his  favorite  pastime.  He  wrote 
a  book  called  ''  The  Complete  Angler,"  which,  although  now  more  than  two 
hundred  years  old,  is  still  read  and  admired  T)y  all  who  enjoy  quaint  conceits 
and  happy  descriptions  of  outdoor  things.  George  Washington  and  Daniel 
Webster,  as  well  as  many  another  of  our  distinguished  men,  were  very  fond  of 
angling. 


14J 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SFOBTS. 


Now  most  buys  know  perfectly  well  how  to  fish  with  rod  and  line,  and  I  have 
seen  some  girls  who  were  (^uite  expert  at  eatehing  shiners  and  sun-i)ereh  in  the 
small  streams  of  the  Middle  and  Sonthern  States.  But  of  fly-fishinjr,  the  genuine 
angling,  boys  and  girls  seem  to  know  almost  nothing  whatever.  I  have  often 
wondered  at  this,  for  there  is  no  sport  more  fascinating  or  more  easily  attainable. 
Fishing-tackle  for  angling  with  the  fly  is  very  simple  and  beautiful,  and  can 

be  l)ought  of 
any  dealer  in 
sportsmen's 
goods.  A  fly- 
rod,  a  click- 
reel,  and  some 
twenty  or  thir- 
ty yards  of 
fishing-line 
are  the  fii-st 
things  to  pur- 
chase. With 
these  in  hand, 
you  are  ready 
to  learn  how  to 
''cast,"— an  ac- 
complishment 
you  must  pret- 
ty thoroughly 
master  before 
you  think  of 
going  to  a 
brook  for  trout 
or  black  bass. 
Your  fly -rod 
will  usually  be 
made  of  three 
pieces,     with 

socket-joints,  so  as  to  be  taken  apart  when  not  in  use.  These  three  pieces  are 
called  the  l)utt,  the  middle-piece,  and  the  tip.  The  click-reel  is  to  be  fastened  on 
the  under  side  of  the  butt,  at  the  larger  extremity,  just  below  the  place  where 
the  hand  must  grasp  the  rod  when  using  it.  The  line  —  a  slender  silk  or  linen 
one  —  is  evenly  wound  upon  the  reel,  with  an  end  free  to  pass  through  small 
brass  loops  or  eyes  on  the  under  side  of  the  rod  to  the  extremity  of  the  tip, 
where  it  goes  through  a  little  ring,  whence  it  may  T)e  drawn  out  as  long  as  you 

always  with  the  left  hand. 


•Au  expert  at  catching  sbiners." 


FLY-FJSIIIS(,    Fol;    IlLACK    JLiSS. 


143 


Now  let  us  tiT  to  c.ist  the  line.  To  do  tliis,  as  a  iiici'O  matter  of  i)reliiiiinary 
praetiee,  tie  a  small  weight,  say  a  little  block  of  wood,  au  inch  long  and  as  thick 
as  your  little  finger,  to  the  free  end  of  your  line,  which  has  been  drawn  out 
througli  the  tip-ring  some  eight  or  nine  feet.  Now,  standing  firmly  erect  in  an 
easy  position,  take  the  rod  in  the  right  hand,  grasping  it  by  the  handle  just 
above  the  reel ;  with  thumb  and  for-eflnger  of  the  left  hand  take  light  hold  of 
the  bit  of  wood  at  the 
line's  end.  You  are  now 
ready  for  a  cast.  The 
rod  is  nearly  vertical 
and  the  line  is  drawn 
taut.  By  a  motion  grad- 
ually increasing  in  ra- 
pidity, wave  the  rod 
backward  over  the  left 
shoulder,  at  tlie  same 
time  loosing  the  bit 
of  wood  and  allowing 
the  line  to  swing- 
straight  out  behind  you. 
Then,  before  the  wood 
can  touch  the  ground 
in  your  rear,  wave  the 
rod,  by  a  gradually 
quickening  motion  and 
with  a  slight  curve  to 
the  right,  forward,  so 
as  to  whip  the  line  to 
the  full  length  that  is 
unwound,  straight  out 
before  you,  allowing 
the  block  to  settle  light- 
ly on  the  ground.  Now, 
to  cast  again,  wind  off 
a  foot  more  of  line,  by 
slipping  it  from  the 
reel  witli  your  left 
hand,  and  then,  by  a 
gentle  sweep  of  the 
rod  upward  and  backward,  fling  the  line  full  length  straight  Ix-hind  you, 
and  before  it  can  fall  to  the  ground  throw  it  forward  again  as  in  the  first 
cast.     Try  this  over  and  over,  until  j-ou  get  so  that  you  can  fling  out  twelve 


144  BOYS'    HOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 

feet  of  line  every  time  and  make  your  bit  of  "wood  dro])  upon  just  the  spot  you 
aim  at.  This  accompli slied,  you  are  ready  to  begin  practice  on  water  with 
a  fly.  You  must  now  "  rig  your  cast,"  as  anglers  say ;  that  is,  you  must  loop 
on  at  the  end  of  your  line  six  feet  of  heavy  ''silk-gut,"  called  a  stretcher;  to 
this  stretcher  two  flics  must  be  attached  by  short  pieces  of  the  "  silk-gut,"  one 
at  the  end  of  the  stretcher  and  the  other  two  or  three  feet  from  the  end.  The 
short  line  by  which  the  fly  is  attached  to  the  stretcher  is  called  a  snell  or  snood. 

Artificial  flies  are  made  mostly  of  feathers,  tied  upon  a  hook  in  such  a  way  as 
to  somewhat  resemble  some  one  or  another  of  the  insects  that  sport  about  the 
streams  in  summer.  Anglers  have  discoursed  at  great  length  on  the  subject  of 
flies.  Some  like  white  or  light-colored  flies  ;  others  prefer  gay  feathers,  such  as 
ibis,  golden  pheasant,  peacock,  woodpecker,  and  wood-duck ;  while  others  still 
use  different  flies  for  dift'erent  days,  and  vary  the  shape  and  color  as  the  season 
advances.  The  making  of  an  artificial  fly  is  technically  called  "■  tying  the  fly," 
and  is  so  minute  and  difficult  an  operation  that  it  is  better  to  buy  flies  of  the 
dealers  than  to  attempt  to  tie  them  yourself. 

The  angler  usually  carries  a  supply  of  flies  in  a  pocket  case  called  a  flj'-book. 

The  fly  attached  to  the  end  of  the  stretcher  is  called  the  ''  tail-fly,"  and  the 
one  attached  further  up  is  called  the  *^  dropper,"  or  *'  bob-fly." 

Now,  having  "  rigged  your  cast,"  you  may  go  to  the  nearest  water  and  i)rac- 
tice  casting  the  fly,  just  as  you  learned  with  the  bit  of  wood. 

You  will  find  this  exercise  rather  tiresome  to  the  right  arm  at  first,  but  you 
can  soon  overcome  every  difficulty.  In  the  beginning,  you  should  choose  a 
smooth,  open  space  of  water  on  which  to  practice,  until  you  can  cast  well  enough 
to  begin  angling  for  game. 

Gh'ls  can  use  a  fly-rod  just  as  well  as  boys,  and  they  will  find  in  it  a  new  and 
delightful  means  of  enjoyment. 

When  you  have  thoroughly  mastered  the  method  of  casting  and  are  ready  to 
go  angling,  you  must  dress  yourself  for  the  water,  for  sometimes  y<^)U  may  have 
to  wade  in  the  shallow  parts  of  the  brook. 

(xirls  should  wear  short  dresses  and  wading-stockings;  the  latter  are  made  of 
rubT)er  cloth,  and  may  be  ordered  of  any  dealer  in  fishing  goods.  Over  these 
stockings,  which  are  w^ater-proof,  shoes  must  be  worn,  the  older  and  easier  the 
better. 

Boys,  as  a  rule,  will  not  care  for  these  stockings,  preferring  to  roll  up  their 
trouser-legs  and  wade  "  just  so." 

Now  for  the  fun  ! 

"  But  where  are  any  trout  l)ro()ks  ?  "  you  inquiiv. 

Trout  brooks  are  rather  scarce,  it  is  true,  but  bass  streams  are  not.  The  black 
bass  is  found  in  nearly  all  tlie  brooks  and  rivers  of  a  large  portion  of  the  United 
States,  and  it  is  the  gamiest  and  boldest  fish  that  swims.  It  will  take  the  fly,  if 
properly  offered,  more  readily  than  salmon,  trout,  or  grayling. 


FLY-FISHING   FOR  BLACK  BASS. 


145 


■^ 


^ 


So,  girls  and  boys,  let  iis  go  a-fish- 
ing  for  black  bass.  A  good  brook 
or  rivulet  is  close  by  almost  any 
covintry  house  or  town.  A  short 
drive  or  walk  takes  us  to  where  we 
can  hear  the  bubble  and  murmur, 
and  see  the  pure  water  rippling  and 
gleaming  among  the  shining  stones. 
The  big  plane-trees,  sometimes  called 
sycamore,  lean  over  the  brook's 
current,  and  there  is  a  woodsy 
10 


^^ 


146 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


fragrance  and  freshness  in  the  aii-.     Birds  sing  overhead  and  round  about  in 
the  thickets. 

We  walk  cautiously  along  the  brook-side  until  we  find  a  place  where  the  water 
is  dashing  merrily  among  big  stones  and  whirling  in  shining  circles,  frothed  with 
clots  of  snowy  foam.  This  is  a  promising  place  for  a  cast.  Let  us  try.  Give 
wav  boys  and  let  one  of  the  girls  have  the  first  cast.  Now  !  See  her  take  the 
fly  in  her  left  hand,  lightly  between  the  thumb  and  forefinger,  her  beautiful 
slender  rod  held  almost  vertically  in  her  right  hand.  She  waves  the  rod  back- 
ward over  her  left  shoulder,  at 
the  same  time  loosing  the  fly, 
then  she  whips  the  rod  forward 
with  a  slight  whirl  to  the  right, 
and  away  spins  the  fly.  But  it 
falls  somewhat  short.  Quickly 
and  deftly  she  slips  a  few  feet 
more  of  line  from  the  reel,  grace- 
fully whirls  the  rod  backward 
again,  and,  as  the  line  straightens 
behind  her,  she  casts  as  before. 
Again  and  again  she  does  this, 
lengthening  the  line  a  little  at 
each  cast,  until,  at  last,  the  gay 
fly  falls  lightly  among  the  shining 
waves  close  by  a  little  whirlpool. 
Splash!  What  a  fine  fish  leaps 
up  !  You  see  his  scales  gleam  and 
his  fins  flash  as  he  ''  flips  "  him- 
self almost  bodily  above  the  water 
and  seizes  the  fly.  And  Avhat  does 
my  little  lady  with  the  rod  ?  She 
quickly  "strikes" — that  is,  she 
gives  a  short,  sharp  jerk  with  her 
right  hand,  and  then  the  fight 
begins.  The  rod  is  bent  like  a 
whip ;  whiz  goes  the  click-reel  as 
the  strong  fish  pulls  off  yard  after 
yard  of  the  line.  Hold  him  back, 
quick !  Now,  as  our  little  girl 
changes  the  rod  from  her  right  hand  to  her  left,  in  order  to  manage  the  reel, 
the  fish  makes  a  big  lunge  and  turns  a  somersault  clear  out  of  the  water.  The 
hook  is  an  extra  good  one,  or  it  would  have  broken  und(>r  that  strain.  We  all 
look  on  with  tremulous  excitement  as  the  bass  falls  back  again  into  the  swirling 


Not  so  easy,  after  all." 


FLY-FISHING  FOR  BLACK  BASS. 


14V 


current  and  be- 
gins to  dart 
this  Avay  and 
that,  making 
the  lino  sing 
and  whirl.  Now 
our  determined 
little  angler  be- 
gins to  force 
the  fight.  She 
tm-ns  the  butt 
of  the  rod  more 

forward,    thus     ^  _—  raising  the  tip,  and  begins 

to  steadily  turn  ^fa^:  ___^,__  __  ^^^^^^^^^^_^^^  the  reel-crank  with  her 
righthand.  See  ^  promising^spot  ^    the  slender  rod  bend  al- 

most   double  !  Hurry,  boys, —  some   one 

of  you, —  get  the  landing-net  and  be  ready  to  dip  up  the  game  !  As  the  line 
is  shortened,  the  bass  is  drawn  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  grassy  bank.  There  ! 
his  prickly  dorsal  fin  cuts  the  water!  Now  get  the  landing-net  under  him. 
Grood!  he  is  ours,  and  he  weighs  a  full  pound  and  a  qnarter.  That  was  a  well- 
managed  campaign  on  the  part  of  our  young  lady.  Which  one  of  the  boys  can 
beat  it '? 

You  may  think  that  it  would  be  a  very  easy  task  to  numage  a  fish  weighing  no 
more  than  a  pound  and  a  half;  but  when  a  live  and  stubborn  bass  of  that  size  is  at 
the  end  of  ten  or  twelve  yards  of  line,  and  your  rod  is  as  limber  as  a  whip,  the 
thing  is  n't  so  easy,  after  all.     I  have  seen  grown  men  fail  in  the  undertaking. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  fly-fishing  is  to  get  your  fly  to  fall  just 
where  you  wish  it  to.  It  recpiires  no  little  skill  to  be  able  to  cast  out  twenty 
feet  of  line  and  make  your  gaudy  insect  drop  exac'tly  where  you  aim.  Some- 
times bass  are  very  stupid,  or  very  cunning,  or  not  very  hungry,  or  lazy,  for 
they  will  balance  themselves  in  a  clear  current,  with  their  heads  up-stream,  and 
no  matter  how  cleverly  you  pi-esent  your  fly,  not  a  rise  will  they  make.  At  other 
times,  they  will  take  your  fly  as  fast  as  you  can  offer  it. 

One  day,  some  years  ago,  I  was  casting  in  a  narrow,  weedy  stream  in  the 
South,  and  was  trying  to  make  my  fly  fall  upon  a  small  pool  near  the  opposite 
bank,  when  it  went  a  little  too  far  and  settled  in  a  tuft  of  grass.  No  sooner 
had  it  touched  than  something  grabbed  it  savagely,  and,  when  I  reeled  in  my 
line,  I  found  that  I  had  caught  a  bull-frog ! 

In  fly-fishing  for  bass,  you  find  the  streams  more  easily  approached  than 
trout  brooks,  and  there  is  less  in  your  way  when  casting.  In  fact,  I  can  say 
with  confidence  to  all  of  the  girl  and  boy  fly-fishers,  that  they  could  not 
wish  for  better  spoi-t  than  they  can  get  from  fly-angling  in  almost   any  of 


148  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOETS. 

our  larger  brooks,  when  ouce  the  secret  of  the  gentle  art  is  discovered  by 
them.  It  seems  strange  that  even  enthusiastic  anglers  are  just  beginning  to  find 
out  the  great  merits  of  the  black  bass  as  a  game  fish  to  be  taken  with  the  fly. 
All  these  years  men  have  been  making  long  journeys  to  Canada  and  to 
northern  Michigan  for  trout  and  salmon,  when  the  streams  that  flow  through 
every  county  of  nearly  all  our  States  are  teeming  with  bass  gamer  than  salmon 
and  more  voracious  than  trout ! 

Bass  brooks,  as  a  rule,  are  shallow,  so  that  there  is  little  danger  of  drowning 
in  them,  and  you  can  wade  where  you  please.  Some  girls  may  think  angling  is 
too  much  like  boys'  sport  for  them ;  but  if  they  will  try  it  once,  some  sweet 
June  day,  they  will  change  their  minds.  There  is  a  great  deal  more  fun  in 
wading  a  clear,  running  brook,  than  in  wallowing  in  the  surf  of  the  sea ;  and 
then,  if  you  get  a  big  bass,  he  gives  you  excitement  that  makes  the  blood  leap 
in  your  veins. 

Some  very  good  and  tender-hearted  people  think  of  angling  as  a  most  cruel 
and  wicked  sport.  I  can  not  decide  this  matter  for  any  one  but  myself.  If  you 
are  afraid  that  killing  fish  is  wicked,  don't  angle,  for  a  timid  angler  never  gets  a 
rise,  or,  if  he  does,  he  strikes  too  feebly  or  too  late  to  get  the  game.  To  succeed 
at  fly-fishing,  one  must  go  at  it  with  a  clear  conscience  and  a  steady  nerve.  Be 
sure  you  are  right,  and  then  don't  let  the  fish  get  away  —  that  is  my  rule  ! 


W^^(^cL^lAcrr 


FLY-FISHING    FOIl   TIIOUT 


By  Kipley  Hitchcock. 


THERE  was  once  a  boy  who  thought  that  he  could  choose  his  birthday 
present  more  wisely  thau  could  his  father  or  mother.  He  wanted  an 
"arrow  rifle" —  a  useless  affair  which  has  long  since  gone  to  the  place  where 
toys  which  are  failures  go.  He  was  disappointed,  however.  His  birthday 
brought  him  not  an  "  arrow  rifle,"  but  a  light,  jointed  fishing-rod.  Now  this 
boy  had  already  done  some  fishing  with  a  heavy  bamboo  pole,  or  with  one  cut 
from  an  alder,  jerking  the  fish  out  of  the  water,  and  swinging  them  over  his 
head.  To  be  sure  the  heavy  pole  made  his  arms  ache,  but  his  new  rod,  which 
bent  at  every  touch,  seemed  to  him  too  slender  and  flimsy  to  be  of  any  use 
whatever. 

I  fear  he  was  not  very  grateful  at  first,  but  he  was  properly  rebuked  when 
his  father  took  a  day  from  professional  cares,  and  opened  the  lad's  eyes  to  the 
pleasure  of  fishing  with  light  tackle.  When  he  had  learned  to  "  cast"  flies  with 
his  elastic  but  strong  rod,  without  hooking  soniel:)ody  or  something  not  meant 
to  be  hooked ;  when  he  had  seen  the  beautiful  vermilion-spotted  trout  flash 
clear  of  the  water,  tempted  by  the  flies ;  and  when  he  had  found  that  he  could 
tire  out  and  laud  larger  fish  than  he  had  ever  caught  before,  simply  by  pitting 
against  their  cunning  and  strength,  skill  and  patience  instead  of  mere  brute 
force  —  then  there  was  opened  to  that  boy  a  new  world  of  sport  and  healthy 
recreation.  He  has  never  regretted  the  "  arrow  rifle " ;  and  he  now  proposes 
to  tell  the  boys  as  well  as  the  girls  how  to  obtain  something  which  is  within 
the  reach  of  both, —  the  greatest  possible  pleasure  from  fishing. 

If  one  could  take  a  bird's-eye  view  of  our  country  at  any  time  in  the  summer, 
he  would  see  boys  and  girls  catching  all  kinds  of  fish  in  all  kinds  of  ways  ;  some 
off  the  coast  in  sail-boats,  tugging  at  bluefish  or  mackerel,  others  black-bass 
fishing,  some  "skittering"  for  pickerel  in  New  England  lakes,  others  trolling 
for  pike  in  the  lakes   and  rivers  of  the  West.    But  of  all  the  fresh-water 


150  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

game  fisli  there  is  uoiie  more  beautiful  aud  g-raceful  or  more  active  tliau  the 
trout. 

Auy  New  York  boy  who  has  never  caught  a  trout  should  go  down  to  Fulton 
Market  at  the  opening  of  the  trout  season  when  the  trout  are  gathered  there 
from  all  parts  of  the  country.  He  will  see  "  rainbow  "  trout  from  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  theii-  sides  iridescent,  and  stained  as  if  marked  by  a  bloody  finger. 

These  are  being  introduced  into 
Eastern  Avaters.  He  will  find  trout 
in  the  blackest  of  mourning  robes 
and  others  gayly  dressed  in  silver 
tinsel.  Sometimes  the  vermilion 
spots  on  the  sides  shine  like  fire ; 
again  thev  are  as  dull  as  if  the 

Rainbow  trout.  ^^^   ^^^    ^^^^    ^^^^    ^^^    j^^.^    ^^^^ 

gray  ashes.  For  there  are  several  varieties  of  trout  known  to  naturalists  and 
traveled  fishermen,  and  even  the  brook  trout,  called  b}^  the  formidable  name 
of  Sabno  fontinalis,  varies  greatly  in  color  and  shape  in  different  localities. 
In  Arizona,  I  have  caught  trout  which  were  fairly  black.  In  Dublin  Lake 
in  New  Hampshire,  the  trout  look  like  bars  of  polished  silver  as  they  are 
draw^n  up  through  the  water.  I  never  saw  a  more  sharply  marked  contrast 
than  that  between  the  trout  of  two  little  Maine  lakes,  near  the  head-waters 
of  the  Androscoggin  River.  In  one,  the  trout  were  long,  and  as  thin  as 
race-horses,  aud  their  flesh  was  of  a  salmon-pink  hue;  in  the  other,  not 
half  a  mile  away,  the  trout  were  short,  thick,  and  almost  hump-backed,  with 
darker  skins  and  lighter  flesh  ;  the  first  lake  had  a  sandy,  gravelly  bottom,  and 
the  water  was  clear  as  crystal;  the  bottom  of  the  second  was  muddy,  and 
the  water  dark  and  turbid.  This  explained  the  difference  in  the  fish,  a  difference 
always  existing  in  trout  of  brooks  or  lakes  under  the  same  conditions.  In 
the  great  Androscoggin  Lakes  of  Maine,  the  trout,  which  are  brook  trout,  grow 
to  the  largest  size  known  anywhere.  They  have  been  caught  weighing  twelve 
pounds,  and  many  claimed  that  they  were  lake  trout,  until  the  famous  naturalist 
Agassiz  decided  that,  although  living  in  lakes,  they  were  true  brook  trout. 
These  immense  trout  have  very  thick  bodies  and  cruel  hooked  jaws ;  but  the 
guides  can  point  out  many  points  of  contrast  between  trout  from  different 
lakes,  or  even  from  different  parts  of  the  same  lake.  There  are  trout  nearly  as 
large  in  the  rivers  of  the  British  Provinces,  Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick, 
and  Quebec,  but  these  are  usually  lighter  colored,  and  they  are  quite  another 
variety,  being  known  as  sea-trout,  or  SaJmo  friiffa.  All  this  adds  to  the  interest 
of  trout-fishing  by  inducing  the  angler  to  ac(piaint  himself  with  what  the 
Natural  Histories  have  to  tell  him  about  the  various  kinds  of  trout.  Then 
the  differences  in  one  kind  teach  him  to  be  observant  and  excite  a  curiosity 
as  to  the  habits  of  the  trout.     Here  the  Natural  Histories  will  fail  him.     Onlv 


FLY- FISH  IXC    FOR    THOUT.  15J 

by  folic ) will t;'  trout  brooks  and  tcniptin.^'  tlir  largvr  trout  of  lakes,  can  lie  properly 
study  the  ways  aud  curious  moods  of  this  euuuiiig-,  timid  fish.  And  even  then, 
if  he  be  modest,  he  will  often  confess  himself  sadly  puzzled ;  for  the  trout's  wits 
are  sometimes  more  than  a  match  for  the  fisherman's.  And  this  adds  to  the 
pleasure  of  trout-fishing ;  for  if  one  had  to  deal  with  a  fish  which  would  bite  at 
any  bait,  under  any  circumstances,  and  give  up  the  fight  as  soon  as  hooked,  the 
sport  would  soon  grow  very  stupid.  In  trout-fishing,  one  will  study  the  best 
conditions  of  wind,  weather,  and  wattn-,  and  learn  how  to  approach  one  of  the 
shyest  of  fish,  how  to  delude  one  of  the  most  wary,  and  how  safely  to  land  one 
of  the  pluckiest.  To  do  this  it  is  necessary  to  have  reliable  '^  tackle,"  a  term 
which  includes  rod,  reel,  line,  leadei-s,  flies,  and  landing-net.  The  rod  must  be 
S(i  light  that  one  can  cast  with  it  easily  and  persistently,  and  yet  it  must  be 
strong  enough  to  bend  into  all  manner  of  curves  without  breaking,  and  to  tire 
out  large  trout.  If  it  is  too  stiff,  the  fisherman's  arm  will  soon  be  wearied,  and 
if  it  is  too  flexible  or  withy,  it  will  not  cast  flies  well,  and  it  will  not  hold  fish 
firmly  if  the  angler  needs  to  bring  a  strain  upon  them.  In  attempts  to  meet 
these  requirements,  fly  rods  have  been  made  of  split  bamboo,  ash  and  lance-wood, 
bethabara,  greenheart,  cedar,  hickory,  hornbeam,  iron-wood,  snake- wood,  shad- 
blow  and  perhaps  twenty  other  woods,  and  there  have  even  been  experiments 
in  making  rods  of  thin  steel  tubes.  The  split  bamboo  rods  are  made  of  four  or 
six  triangular  strips  cut  from  the  rind  of  Calcutta  bamboo  and  carefully  fitted 
and  glued  together.  Sometimes  the  surface  is  rounded,  but  oftener  it  has  six 
sides.  These  rods,  when  they  are  really  good,  are  the  best  of  all.  Indeed, 
Americans  may  justly  claim  to  make  the  finest  rods  in  the  world  and  also  the 
finest  lines.  But  I  should  not  advise  any  of  my  readers  to  buy  a  split  bamboo 
fly  rod,  because  these  rods  are  very  expensive,  they  require  very  careful  treat- 
ment, and  if  broken  they  must  go 
back  to  the  maker  to  be  repaired. 
The  fly  rod  which  I  recommend  to 
the  boys  and  girls  is  one  with  an 
ash  butt,  and  the  second  joint  and 
tip  of  lance- wood.  It  should  be 
from  ten  feet  to  ten  feet  and  a 
half  in  length,  and  shoidd  weigh 
about  seven  ounces    and  a  half.  ^''^^^^^^  ^^'^^  *'"^^*- 

Such  a  rod  can  be  obtained  from  any  reliable  dealer  in  any  large  city.  1  ('ini)ha- 
siae  "reliable"  because  there  are  fishing-tackle  stores  where  one  may  get  rods  nice 
to  look  at,  but  worthless  to  use.  Nearly  all  dealers  keep  what  is  called  an  "  all- 
around  "  rod,  intended  to  be  used  for  either  fly  or  bait  fishing,  Imt  this,  like  most 
compromises,  is  usually  unsatisfactory.  This,  or  something  like  it,  will  probably 
be  shown  you  if  you  ask  for  a  boy's  rod,  so  that  it  is  better  to  tell  the  dealer  or 
rod-maker  exactly  what  you  want,  and  accept  nothing  else.     If  he  takes  a  pride 


152  HOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

in  his  Avork  and  has  a  reputation  to  sustain,  he  will  interest  himself  in  picking  out 
a  rod  of  sound,  well-seasoned  wood,  evenly  balanced,  elastic,  with  a  good  action, 
and  a  peculiar  ''kick"  in  the  second  joint,  which  is  of  great  service  in  casting  a 
ti}'.  If  some  one  can  help  you  in  making  your  choice,  so  much  the  better.  Then 
it  will  l)e  well  to  attach  a  reel  and  line  to  the  rod  and  try  it  in  actual  casting,  if 
this  is  possible  ;  and  when  the  rod  is  bent,  see  that  the  bend  is  an  even  curve. 
The  pleasure  of  fly-fishing  depends  upon  the  quality  of  the  rod,  and  the  choice 
should  therefore  be  made  deliberately  and  wisely.  Some  fishermen  make  their 
own  rods,  and  there  are  dealers  who  supply  materials  for  amateur  rod-makers  ; 
but  this  is  a  difficult  undertaking  and  can  not  be  described  here.  I  should 
advise  any  boy  to  go  to  a  professional  maker  for  his  fii-st  fly  rod. 

The  "enameled  water-proof"  lines  are  the  best.  These  are  braided  from 
boiled  silk,  and  prepared  to  resist  the  action  of  water,  which  will  cause  the  decay 
of  an  ordinary  line.  Of  the  various  sizes,  which  are  distinguished  by  letters, 
that  known  as  F  is  most  desirable,  although  either  E  or  F  will  answer  the  pur- 
pose. The  line  should  be  ''  level,"  not  tapering,  and  at  least  twenty-five  yards 
in  length.  This  will  be  wound  upon  a  '' click"  reel  of  equal  capacity,  preferably 
nickel-plated.  But  this  is  of  less  importance  than  the  internal  construction  of 
the  reel,  for  which  you  should  have  the  maker's  guarantee.  Now  come  the  flies. 
There  are  names  enough  to  fill  a  directory,  and  a  greater  variety  of  colors  than 
the  woods  show  in  autumn.  A  few  flies  like  the  ''  Montreal,"  "Professor,"  ''  Scarlet 
Ibis,"  ''Coachman,"  and  the  "  Hackles"  are  to  be  found  in  almost  every  angler's 
book.  For  the  rest,  it  will  be  well  to  learn,  from  some  experienced  angler  or  intel- 
ligent dealer,  the  flies  best  suited  to  the  particular  waters  which  you  intend  to  fish. 
At  the  Kangeley  Lakes,  for  example,  you  will  find  that  large,  gaudy  flies  are  much 
used,  like  the  "  Parmachenie  Belle,"  "Silver"  and  "  Golden  Doctor,"  and  "Grizzly 
King,"  and  there  is  one  local  fly  called  the  "  Katoodle  Bug."  In  the  Adirondacks, 
smaller  flies  of  quieter  colors  are  favored.  For  brook-fishing,  very  small  flies 
of  neutral  tints  are  much  used,  except  when  the  water  is  very  dark.  A  fly-book 
will  be  needed  to  contain  flies  and  also  leaders.  The  leader  is  a  piece  of  "  silk- 
worm gut,"  whi(di  should  be  about  six  feet  in  length.  One  end  is  fastened  to 
the  line,  and  the  stretcher-fly  is  made  fast  at  the  other.  One  or  two  other  flies, 
called  droppers,  are  usually  attached  at  intervals  of  two  feet  or  more  along  the 
leader.  Before  making  your  choice,  the  leaders  should  be  ch)sely  examined  to 
see  whether  any  part  is  frayed  or  cracked.  They  can  be  tested  by  a  pull  of  four 
or  five  pounds  on  a  spring  balance.  The  leader  is  used  as  being  less  con- 
spicuous than  the  line  in  the  water,  and,  therefore,  less  likely  to  frighten  away 
trout  approaching  the  flies.  Most  leaders  are  dyed  a  ndsty  bluish  color  which,  it  is 
thought,  will  escape  even  the  keen  eyes  of  the  trout.  A  landing-net,  the  size  and 
strength  of  which  depend  upon  the  fishing-ground,  completes  the  list  of  tackle. 

The  next  step  is  to  learn  how  to  cast  a  fly,  and  here  practice  and  the  advice  of 
some  experienced  fly-fisherman  will  be  worth  more  than  printed  instructions. 


FLY-FISHING   FOR   TROUT. 


153 


^'v  -4c^<a| 


Young  anglers. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  wait  for  summer  nor  for  access  to  water,  in  order  to 
practice  fly-casting.  A  housetop,  a  dooryard,  or  the  spacious  floor  of  an  old- 
fashioned  barn,  as  the  case  may  he,  offers  just  as  good  a  chance  for  practice  as 
a  hike  or  river.  When  the  rod  is  jointed  together,  the  reel  attached,  and  the 
line  passed  through  the  rings  and  beyond  the  tip  about  the  length  of  the  rod, 
the  learner  is  usually  seized  with  a  wild  desire  to  flourish  rod  and  line  like  a 
whip  with  a  long  snapper.  This  feeling  must  promptly  be  suppressed.  Fly- 
casting  is  a  very  simple  movement,  and  not  a  flourish.  The  elbow  is  kept  down 
at  the  side,  the  fore  arm  moving  only  a  little,  and  most  of  the  work  is  done  by 
the  wrist.  Holding  the  rod  by  the  "grip,"  the  part  of  the  butt  wound  with  silk 
or  rattan  to  assist  the  grasp,  one  finds  that  the  reel,  which  is  just  below  the 
"  grip,"  aids  in  balancing  the  rod.  The  reel  is  underneath  in  casting.  After  hook- 
ing a  fish,  many  anglers  turn  their  rods  so  as  to  bring  the  reel  to  the  upper 
side,  thus  letting  the  strain  of  the  line  come  upon  the  rod  itself  instead  of  upon 
the  rings.  In  holding  the  ''  grip  "  the  thumb  should  be  extended  straight  along 
the  rod,  as  this  gives  an  additional ''  purchase."    For  the  first  cast  take  the  end 


i:)-t 


BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 


the  line  in  the  left  hand,  and  bring  the  rod  npward  and  backward  until 
line  is  taut.  As  you  release  the  line  the  spring  of  the  rod  carries  the 
backward.   This  is  the  back  cast.  Then  comes  an  instant's  pause, 
the  line  straightens  itself  out  behind,  and  then,  with  a  firm 
of  the  wrist,  helped  a  little  by  the  fore  arm,  the  rod  is  thrown 
and  the  line  flies  easily  out  in  front.     Begin  with  a  line 
onee-and-a-half  as  long  as  the  rod,  and  lengthen  it  out 
The  main  points  to  be  remembered  are :  to  keep  the 
side,  to  train  the  wrist,  to  move  the  rod  not  too 
back,  always  to  wait  iintil  the  line  is  straight 
back  cast,  and  to  make  sure  that  in  this  the  line 
than  your  head ;  this  last  will  take  time  to 
is   no    more    awkward    fault    than    that 
down  to  a  level  with  the  horizon  before 
ing   the    flies   through   the   air   until 
ped  off. 
comes  accustomed  to  handling  his 
himself  in  two  matters  of  great 
delicacy.     Place  a  small  piece 
away,    and    aim   at    making 
fall  easily  and  quietly  upon 
you  raise  the  point  of  the 
impulse  of  the  line  is 
ened  in  the  air  for  an 
of   target -shooting, 
the  angler  finds  it 
over  the  head  of 
though  too  shy 
some     tempt- 
just    within 
thib     kind, 

f^i7^^'-KT^\x\\    very  fas- 


of 

tlie 

line 

while 

motion  \ 

forward, 

once      or 

by  degrees 

elbow  at  the 

far  forward  or 

behind    on  the 

falls     no    lower 

accomplish.  There 

of  whipping   a  rod 

and  behind,  and  swish 

some  of  them  are  snap 

When   the   learner  be 
rod,  he  must  try  to  perfect 
importance  —  accuracy    and 
of  paper  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
the  knot  in  the  end  of  the  line 
it.      Your  efforts  will  be  aided  if 
rod   a  trifle,    just    as    the   forward 
spent,  and  the  line  itself  is  straight- 
instant  in  front.     This  is  a  novel  kind 
but  its  usefulness  will  be  realized  when 
necessary  to  drop  his  flies  so  lightly  just 
some  particularly  wary  trout,  that  the  fish,  al- 
or  lazy  to  move  a  j'ard,  will  be  persuaded  that 
ing  natural  flies  have  foolishly  settled  on  the  water 
reach   of  his  jaws.     By   practice  of 
which  is  an  excellent  form  of  light 
itself,  any  boy  or   girl  can   learn  a 
cinating  art.     It  is  not  necessary  to 
make  very  long  casts.   At  fly-casting 
tournaments  in  Central  Park,  casts 
have  been  made  of  about  ninety  feet, 
but  in  fishing  a  third  of  that  distance 
is  sufficient.     Never  cast  more  line  than 
you  can  conveniently  and  safely  handle. 


FLY-FISIIIS(1    FOR    TUOIJT. 


153 


And  uow  that  we  are  ready  to  go  a-tisliiii<i-,  the  (lucstion  ai-ises,  "Where  sliall 
wegof"  The  eold,  bitter  weather  eoiiuiion  in  early  Ai)cil  is  not  favoraWe  to 
fishermen  or  iish.  When  May  sunshine  brings  the  leaves  out  on  the  trees,  and 
fiekis  are  green 
and  skies  are 
blue,  then  Long 
Island  may  well 
tempt  any  New 
York  boy  who 
has  a  holiday  to 
spend  in  fly-fish- 
ing. Years  ago, 
any  Long  Island 
water    could   be 

fished  without  question,  but  now  nearly  all  the  Long  Island  brooks  and  ponds 
are  "preserved," — that  is,  kept  for  personal  use  by  clubs  or  private  owners. 
A  boy  who  has  friend  or  relative  among  the  owners  of  these  preserves,  or  can 
hire  a  fishing  privilege,  can  enjoy  trout-fishing  within  a  journey  of  two  or 
three  hours  from  his  New  York  home.  Within  a  few  hours'  ride,  also,  are 
trout  streams  in  the  southern  counties  of  New  York  State  and  in  Pennsyl- 
vania, althougli  the  former  are  so  often  visited  that  the  fish  have  scarcely 
time  to  grow  to  the  proper  size.  The  New  England  boy  finds  trout  brooks  in 
western  Connecticut,  in  northern  Massachusetts,  and  in  the  Cape  Cod  region,  in 
northern  New  Hampshire  and  Vermont,  and  especially  in  Maine.  Once,  almost 
every  stream  and  lake  in  New  England  contained  trout.  But  forests  were  cut 
down,  and  some  of  the  streams  dwindled  until  they  went  dry  in  summer.  Saw- 
mills were  built,  the  streams  were  dammed  up  so  as  to  be  impassable  for  trout, 
and  the  trout  eggs  were  buried  under  sawdust.  Manufactories  have  poisoned 
the  water  of  some  rivers,  and  others  have  been  literally  "  fished  dry."  The  trout 
of  any  brook  near  a  large  New  England  town  have  a  very  poor  chance  of  long 
life.  All  this  is  discouraging  enough,  but  yet  there  are  trout  to  be  caught,  as 
every  New  England  boy  knows.  The  most  famous  fishing-places  in  the  East 
are  the  Rangeley  Lakes  in  Maine  and  the  Adirondacks  in  New  York.  About 
the  third  week  in  May  the  ice  goes  out  of  the  great  chain  of  lakes  forming  the 
head- waters  of  the  Androscoggin  River  in  Maine.  Then  the  red-shirted  river- 
drivers  come  down  with  "  drives"  of  logs,  which  dash  through  the  sluiceways  of 
immense  dams  between  the  different  lakes.  And  while  the  brown  pine  trunks 
are  still  shooting  through  the  dams,  fishermen  begin  to  gather  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  for  in  the  clear  cold  water  of  these  lakes  the  trout,  feeding  upon 
myriads  of  minnows,  grow  to  be  the  giants  of  their  race. 

If  one  can  continue  farther  into  the  North-east,  better  fishing  can  be  found  in 
New  Brunswick  and  Quebec  than  in  Maine,  although  the  trout  of  the  Provinces 


156  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

are  sea  trout,  a  distiuetiou  wliicli  does  not  seem  to  me  important.  The  trout  of 
the  Adironducks  are  much  smaller  than  those  of  Maine  or  New  Brunswick,  and 
now  that  the  xVdirondack  country  is  overrun  with  visitors,  one  must  go  back 
some  distance  into  the  woods  to  find  good  sport.  South  of  Pennsylvania,  there 
is  trout  fishing  in  the  mountain  streams  of  West  Virginia  and  North  Carolina. 
To  the  west,  northern  Michigan  tempts  the  angler,  and  still  farther  north  are 
the  large  trout  of  the  Nepigou  River  which  flows  into  Lake  Superior,  The 
States  along  the  Mississippi  Valley  are  sadly  deficient  in  trout,  but  a  great  deal 
can  be  done  with  black  bass,  as  Mr.  Maurice  Thompson  has  told  you.  Trout 
abound  aU  along  the  Rocky  Mountains.  There  are  the  lusty  five-pounders  of 
the  Snake  River  in  Idaho,  the  rainbow  trout  of  California,  found  also,  I  think, 
in  Colorado,  and  the  dusky  fish  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona. 

The  best  month  for  fly-fishing  is  June,  and  the  best  weather  a  light  southerly 
or  south-westerly  breeze  and  a  slightly  overcast  sky.  Morning  or  evening  is  the 
best  time.  The  worst  is  the  middle  of  an  intensely  hot,  bright,  still  day.  It  is 
usually  thought  that  a  change  in  the  weather  makes  trout  more  active.  Very 
liigh  or  very  low  water  is  undesirable.  Yet  when  all  the  conditions  seem  per- 
fect, one  may  east  over  a  whole  school  of  trout  without  inducing  them  to  stir  a 
fin ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  when  the  weather  is  most  unfavorable  and  when  the 
fish  are  gorged  with  food,  they  will,  sometimes,  fairly  hustle  one  another  in 
their  eagerness  to  get  the  flies.  On  one  hot  July  noon,  the  air  and  water  around 
my  boat  were  alive  \\dth  trout  for  half  an  hour,  when  they  stopped  rising  as 
suddenly  as  they  had  begun,  without  any  apparent  reason  in  one  case  or  the  other. 
Within  two  forenoon  hours,  I  once  caught  twenty-five  pounds  of  trout  at  the 
mouth  of  a  brook  emptying  into  one  of  the  Rangeley  lakes.  Early  next  morn- 
ing, I  was  rowed  to  the  same  spot,  and  found  only  one  solitary  trout.  Trout  are 
very  fickle  and  changeable,  and  the  ingenuity  sometimes  required  to  coax  them 
to  rise  adds  as  much  zest  to  the  sport  as  the  suspense  and  excitement  of 
hooking  and  landing  them. 

But  when  tlie  trout  does  rise,  what  do  you  suppose  he  thinks  ?  Does  he  really 
believe  that  the  curious  creature  with  a  bai-bed  tail  hovering  over  his  head  is  a 
natural  fly  ?  I  doubt  it.  The  flies  ordinarily  used  would  drive  an  entomologist 
to  distraction.  The  gi*eat  scarlet  and  white  and  yellow  flies  which  have  caused 
so  many  Rangeley  lake  trout  to  come  to  grief  are,  I  fancy,  unlike  any  living 
insect  in  that  region,  or  anywhere  else.  The  trout  sees  something  moving  on 
the  water,  and  as  experience  has  taught  him  that  such  fluttering  objects  are 
usually  good  to  eat,  his  weakness  for  live  food  tempts  him  to  pounce  upon  it 
without  stopping  to  reason  out  the  matter.  But  when  he  finds  that  this  deceitful 
fly  is  entirely  tasteless,  he  will  drop  it  at  once,  unless  the  fislierman  is  prompt  in 
"  striking."  This  means  a  quick  upward  movement  of  the  tip  of  the  rod,  a 
motion  imparted,  of  course,  at  the  butt,  but  communicated  along  rod  and  line ; 
this  movement  strikes  the  hook  into  the  fish.    One  can  not  be  too  quick  in  strik- 


FLY- FISHING  FOR  TROUT. 

ii'iJ'Tni'T[Y'«> 


157 


)i,--,l!'IM 


One  of  the  giants. 

ing,  but  if  too  much  force  be  used,  the  rod  may  be  snapped  at  the  second  joint. 
Yet  that  is  not  the  way  in  which  rods  are  most  frequently  broken.  If  you  have 
drawn  in  your  flies  so  close  that  you  can  not  readily  recover  them,  and  your 
rod  is  pointing  nearly  straight  upward,  even  a  gentle  attempt  to  strike  a  small 
fish  is  likely  to  break  a  rod.  Once,  I  cast  witli  a  heavy  rod  from  a  raft  which 
was  drifting  across  a  Canadian  lake.  The  wind  was  so  strong  that  I  was 
obliged  to  cast  with  it,  and  then  the  raft  rapidl}^  drifted  down  upon  my  flies. 
A  trout  weighing  not  a  quarter  of  a  pound  rose  when  my  rod  was  nearly  per- 
pendicular, and  the  flies  were  close  before  me ;  instinctively  I  struck.  The 
reward  of  my  carelessness  was  that  the  rod,  which  would  have  landed  a  ten- 
pound  fish,  was  cleanly  broken  into  two  pieces.  Never  draw  the  flies  so  near  to 
you  that  you  have  not  safe  and  complete  control  of  your  rod,  either  for  the 
back-cast  or  for  the  strike. 

The  importance  of  the  high  back-cast  of  which  I  have  spoken  will  be  fully 
appreciated  by  the  majority  of  my  boy  and  girl  readers,  for  most  of  their  trout- 
ftshing  will  probably  be  done  upon  brooks  where  a  low  back-cast  would  involve 
entanglement  in  grass  or  bushes.  In  brook-fishing  it  is  usually  necessary  to 
use  a  comparatively  short  line,  and  one  must  learn  to  make  under-hand  casts; 
that  is,  with  the  rod  down  to  a  horizontal  level  on  either  side,  instead  of 
being  upright,  something  easily  learned  after  one  can  cast  properly  over-hand. 
Of  course  my  readers  will  see  that  they  must  keep  themselves  and  their  shadows 
out  of  the  sight  of  the  timid  trout.  When  a  fish  is  hooked,  let  him  run  out 
the  reel  if  he  is  large  enough,  unless  he  makes  for  stumps  or  brush  where  the 


158 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


line  may  get  eutaugled.  Then  as  mucli  of  a  strain  nuist  be  brought  to  bear 
npou  him  as  the  tackle  will  withstand ;  and  always  reel  in  line  when  it  is  possi- 
ble. The  line  should  never  be  slack.  If  the  trout  will  not  rise  at  first,  change 
your  flies  and  try  the  old  rule  of  looking  closely  at  the  insects  which  hover  over 
the  water  and  selecting  from  your  fly-book  a  fly  that  imitates  those  insects  as 
nearly  as  possible.  The  best  general  ride  is  to  use  small  dark  flies  in  bright, 
clear  water,  and  larger  bright  flies  in  dark  or  turbid  water.  I  need  hardly  say 
that  fish  are  not  to  be  lifted  out  of  the  water  with  a  fly-rod.  Let  the  trout  run 
and  struggle  until  the  strain  of  the  rod  tires  him  out  so  that  he  can  bo  easily 
drawn  within  reach  and  lifted  out  with  the  landing-net. 

So  you  see  that  in  fly-fishing  for  trout  you  learn  a  very  fascinating  art,  which 
can  be  practiced  among  the  most  delightful  of  outdoor  surroundings  in  the 
pleasantest  months  of  the  year.  You  will  learn  much  more  than  books  can  tell 
you  about  the  habits  and  curious  ways  of  a  fish  which  the  most  experienced 
anglers  have  considered  for  hundreds  of  years  as,  next  to  the  salmon,  their  most 
worthy  game.  You  will  learn  patience,  perseverance,  and  all  manner  of  practical 
lessons  on  trout  streams,  including  the  tying  of  knots  and  the  repairing  of  rods. 
And  the  sunshine,  the  fragrance  of  flowery  meadows,  and  the  cool  breath  of  the 
woods  will  give  you  a  health  which  can  not  be  found  indoors.  But  let  me  urge 
upon  you  to  remember  that  the  true  sportsman  is  always  generous  in  his  treat- 
ment of  the  noble  fish  which  he  pursues.  He  will  never  catch  trout  out  of  sea- 
son. He  will  never  kill  more  trout  than  can  be  made  useful,  nor  will  he  ever 
kUl  them  by  unfair  means.  And  he  will  never  catch  tiny  troutlings,  too  small 
to  afford  sport,  lest  he  should  exhaust  the  streams,  but  he  will  carefully  restore 
to  the  water  any  trout  which  are  not  at  least  six  inches  long.  Our  eager  young 
fly-fishers  who  meet  the  gallant  trout  on  fair  and  even  terms  will  surely  give  the 
beautiful  fish  honorable  treatment  in  these  respects. 

And  when  you  go  a-fishing,  bearing  these  words  in  mind,  may  you  be  re- 
warded by  baskets  well  filled  with  trout  of  noble  size. 


The  uot  result. 


A   ROYAL   FISH, 


By  Ripley  Hitchcock, 


WHEN  the  Hudson  River  was  first  seen  b}'  St.  Nicholas,  or  rather  by  his 
image,  which  was  the  figure-head  of  the  Dutch  ship  Goode  Vrouw, 
there  were  more  salmon  in  the  water  than  there  were  wild  grapes  about  the 
Indian  wigwams  which  stood  where  New  York  City  stands  to-day.  That  was 
a  few  years  after  the  discovery  of  the  river  by  Hendrick  Hudson,  in  1609.  But 
in  course  of  time,  the  salmon  went  the  way  of  the  Indians.  The  last  native 
Hudson  River  salmon  was  caught  in  a  net  in  New  York  bay  about  1844;  but  more 
recently,  attempts  have  been  made  to  artificially  stock  that  river  and  others  with 
this  royal  fish.  A  year  ago  a  few  small  specimens  of  this  new  stock  were  caught — 
the  only  salmon  whi(?h  had  been  taken  from  the  Hudson  in  forty  years.  When 
St.  Nicholas  made  his  first  visit  to  our  shores,  there  were  salmon  in  every  river 
along  the  Atlantic  coast,  north  of  the  Delaware.  But  as  fishermen  became 
numerous,  as  dams  were  built  across  the  rivers,  and  as  the  water  was  made  im- 
pure by  town  and  city  drainage,  the  salmon  were  driven  northward,  just  as  the 
Indians  were  driven  westward.  The  salmon  were  forced  to  leave  the  Connecti- 
cut—  another  river  where  there  is  hope  of  introducing  them  again;  they  left 
the  Merrimac  when  it  was  given  over  to  manufactories ;  and  now  salmon  are 
not  to  be  found  south  of  the  rivers  of  Eastern  Maine.  Beyond,  they  visit  the 
rivers  of  the  British  Provinces,  Labrador,  the  Hudson  Bay  country,  and  even 
Greenland, —  for  one  variety  of  salmon  is  a  fearless  Arctic  explorer,  and  pene- 
trates the  Arctic  Circle.  The  salmon  is  as  much  at  home  in  Iceland  and  Norway 
as  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland.  On  the  north-western  American  coast,  from 
Northern  California,  Oregon,  and  Washington,  to  Alaska  and  beyond,  there 
have  always  been  vast  numbers  of  this  wonderful  fish. 


160  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

The  gamy  qualities  of  the  salmou,  which  cause  the  fly-fisherman  to  rate  him 
above  all  other  fishes,  are  his  enduring  strength  and  his  great  activity.  The 
salmou  and  the  bluefish  are  the  strongest  game  fishes  known,  and  the  former 
reaches  a  far  larger  size  than  the  latter.  The  salmou  aud  the  swordfish  are 
the  fastest  swimmers  of  all  the  forked-tail  fishes.  Only  a  fast-running  horse 
could  outstrip  a  swimming  salmon ;  for  it  is  estimated  that  the  salmon  swims 
a  mile  in  less  than  two  minutes.  But  the  horse  would  soon  be  left  behind,  for 
the  fish  can  cover  thirty  miles  in  an  hour.  When  leisurely  ascending  rivers, 
with  frequent  rests  in  attractive  pools,  the  salmon  averages  from  fifteen  to 
twenty -five  miles  a  day.  In  leaping  also,  the  salmon  can  easily  beat  the  horse, 
for  salmon  have  leaped  up  waterfalls  twelve  feet  high.  It  was  formerly  sup- 
posed that  the  salmon,  when  about  to  jump,  bent  himself  double,  and  took  his 
tail  in  his  mouth,  so  that  he  was  like  an  elastic  bow  drawn  tight.  Then  it  was 
thought  that  he  suddenly  let  go,  his  tail  striking  the  water  with  great  force,  and 
away  he  w^ent  through  the  air.  But  now  we  know  that  the  salmon  prepares  for 
a  leap  just  as  a  boy  does,  with  a  short,  sharp  run.  If  the  water  at  the  foot  of 
the  dam  or  fall  is  not  deep  enough  to  allow  this  preparatory  ''run,"  the  salmon 
can  not  jump.  If  there  is  water  enough,  he  starts  from  the  bottom,  his  powerful 
tail  working  as  rapidly  as  the  propeller-screw  of  a  steam-ship.  Aided  by  the 
pectoral  fins,  the  upward  movement  grows  quicker  and  quicker,  until  with  a  last 
muscular  effort  the  salmon  shoots  from  the  water,  his  tail  still  vibrating  for  an 
instant,  then  becoming  motionless,  as  the  fish  curves  through  the  air  and  comes 
dowu  above  the  obstacle.  If  a  dam  be  built  so  high  as  to  be  impassable,  the 
salmon  will  leave  the  river  altogether,  for  instinct  always  leads  them  to  the 
head-waters,  where  they  lay  their  eggs.  So  fish-ladders  and  fish- ways  of  various 
kinds  have  been  invented  to  help  salmon  and  other  fishes  to  surmount  natural 
or  artificial  barriers.  Fish-ladders  have  been  constructed,  by  the  aid  of  which 
salmon  ascend  falls  over  thirty  feet  high. 

As  soon  as  salmon  enter  rivers,  they  begin  to  jump,  like  a  crowd  of  boys 
just  let  out  of  school.  Standing  on  the  shore  of  a  salmon  river  in  June  or  July, 
you  will  every  now  and  then  see  the  fish  leap  four  or  five  feet  out  of  water, 
glistening  like  polished  silver,  then  curving  over  and  falling  with  a  heavy 
splash.  Or  sometimes  their  back  fins  will  roll  lazily  out  of  the  water,  and  you 
will  be  reminded  of  a  school  of  porpoises.  But  there  is  nothing  lazy  al)out  the 
salmon  when  once  he  is  hooked.  If  there  is  a  twenty-five  pound  salmon  at  the 
end  of  your  line,  jumping  nearly  as  high  as  your  head  in  the  struggle  to  rid 
itself  of  the  hook,  you  will  be  pretty  sure  to  think  of  nothing  except  that  fish. 

But  l)efore  the  salmon  reaches  a  weight  of  twenty-five  pounds,  he  api)ears 
in  so  many  and  such  different  forms  that  very  wise  men  have  been  unable 
to  recognize  him.  When  the  salmon  is  just  hatched,  it  is  known  as  fry,  or 
fingerling.  Then  it  becomes  a  i)arr,  or  samlet,  also  called  pink,  or  brandling, 
on  some  foreign  rivers.     The  parr  changes  to  a  smolt,  the  smolt  to  a  grilse,  and 


A    JiOYAL   FISH. 


IGl 


.#^ 


tliirty  to  one  liuudved  days  after   the 
beds  which  are  scooped  out  by  the  parent 
clear  rivers.      Presently  the  alevin  gi'ows  into  the  fry 
11 


Riiilit  iK'fort!  your  fycs  the  great  fish  leaps 
four  feet  from  the  water."    (See  page  108.) 

the  grilse  finally  develops  into  the 
salmon.     The  latter,  when  running 
fresh  from  the  sea,  are  called  white 
salmon,  and  when  they  are  descend- 
ing rivers  after  spawning,  they  are 
'    termed  kelts,  or  black  salmon.  Other 
names  given  to  salmon  after  spawn- 
ing-time are  kippers    and  baggits, 
or  shedders.     So   the   salmon,  like 
the  royal  fish  that  it  is,  has  as  many 
names   as  a  prince   of  one   of  the 
royal  families  of  Europe.  The  alevin, 
or  baby  salmon,  is  hatched  in  from 
eggs   are^  laid  in  furrows  in  gravelly 
fish,  near  the  head-waters  of  cold, 
or  pink,  which  is  an 


162 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


absurd  little  fish  about  au  inch  long,  goggle-eyed,  aud  with  dark  bars  on 
its  sides.  When  some  three  nu)uths  old,  the  fry  makes  a  change  like  that  of  a 
chrysalis  into  a  butterfl^^  It  becomes  a  shapely  little  fish  with  a  forked  tail, 
aud  brilliant  carmine  spots  shine  out  on  its  sides.  Its  back  is  of  a  dark  slaty 
color,  aud  the  bars  are  less  strongly  marked  as  the  parr  grows  older.  The 
greediest  of  trout  is  not  more  hungry  and  active.     I  have  often  seen  a  dozen 


,^^ 


"'"'^!^? 


Shooting  the  rapids. 


liny  parr  jump 
from  the  water  at 
my    flies.     Once, 


when  coming  down  the  Ees- 
tigouche  in  a  canoe,  with  our  rods  laid  aside,  and 
the  flies  dangling  just  over  the  water,  two  parr 
leaped  together  and  hooked  themselves,  although 
they  were  hardly  four  inches  long.  These  pretty 
little  fishes,  which  one  might  readily  mistake  for  trout,  were  once  supposed  to 
belong  to  a  species  entirely  distinct  from  the  salmon.  Naturalists  were  also 
X)uzzled  by  finding  that  some  parr  remain  for  nearly  three  years  in  fresh 
water.  80  they  concluded  that  these  latter  parr  never  went  to  sea  at  all,  and 
considered  them  a  species  by  themselves,  which  they  called  Salmo  samulus.  But 
nature  was  finally  seen  to  be  wiser  than  the  naturalists.  Nature  has  decreed 
that  only  half  the  parr  hatched  in  a  given  winter  shall  go  down  to  the  sea  at 
one  time,  and  in  this  way  protects  the  race  from  the  chance  of  wholesale 
destruction.  So  we  are  now  told  that  some  of  the  parr  develop  more  rapidly 
than  others,  and  migrate  to  the  sea  in  their  second  spring,  while  others  remain 
in  the  rivers  a  year  longer,  and  some  for  still  another  year. 

When  the  time  for  this  migration  approaches,  the  parr,  which  has  been 
steadily  growing  plumper,  undergoes  another  curious  change.  The  carmine  sj)ots 
fade  out,  and  the  soft  skin  T)econies  covered  with  silvery  scales  which  obscure 
the  dark  bars  on  the  sides,  although  the  scales  can  easily  be  rubbed  away.     At 


A   JiOYAL  FISH. 


163 


this  period  the  young  sahnon  is  called  a  siiiolt,  and  the  smolt  was  also  a  riddle 
to  wise  men  for  a  long  time.  It  was  thought  that  smolts  which  went  down  to 
the  sea  weighing  three  or  four  ounces,  returned  to  the  rivers  in  three  mouths 
weighing  six  or  eight  pounds.  Of  course,  such  a  gain  as  this  was  a  very  won- 
derful, indeed  an  unequaled  performance,  like  the  "swellin'  wisibly"  of  the  Fat 
Boy  in  the  "  Pickwick  Papers."  It  is  now  believed,  however,  that  the  smolt 
requires  a  year  or  fifteen  months  at  sea  for  this  great  gain  in  weight.  Then  he 
returns  to  his  native  river,  no  longer  an  insignificant  smolt,  but  a  vigorous, 
beautifid  grilse.  The  grilse  is  more  slender  than  the  salmon,  the  tail  more 
forked,  the  scales  more  easily  removed,  and  the  top  of  the  head  and  fins  are  not 
quite  so  black.     But  the  grilse's  sheeny,  satiny  sides  are  even  more  brilliant 

than  the  salmon's,  and  it  is  more  play-         _  ^  ^ ^^  ^  ^  _ 

ful  and  active,  although  its  strength 
is  less  enduring.  After  the  grilse  has 
frolicked  its  way  to  the  head  of  the 
river  and  spawned,  it  returns  to  the 
sea.  When  it  visits  the  river  again, 
the  next  year,  it  has  become  a  full- 
grown  salmon.  These  are  the  suc- 
cessive stages  of  the  salmon's  life. 

But  even  in  the  last  and  most 
familiar  stage,  the  salmon's  habits 
are  not  fidly  understood.  It  is  known 
that  both  young  and  old  salmon, 
after  descending  a  river,  renuiin  for 
a  time  in  the  brackish  water  at  the 
river's  mouth,  where  they  get  rid  of 
fresh-water  parasites  which  have  be- 
come attached  to  their  sides,  and 
where  their  scales  are  hardened  by 
a  diet  of  small  fish ;  but  where 
in  the  sea  the  salmon  go,  no  one 
really  knows.  After  leaving  the  coast, 
they  disappear.  Tliey  have  been 
found  in  very  deep  water  hundreds 
of  miles  from  any  salmon  river; 
but  their  marine  feeding-grounds  are 
stiU  undiscovered.  In  the  spring 
they  re-appear  at  the  mouths  of  rivers,  where  they  linger  to  free  themselves 
from  nuirine  parasites.  While  in  salt  water,  the}'  will  never  jump  at  a  fly ;  but 
as  soon  as  they  enter  the  fresh  water  of  the  Canadian  rivers  in  June,  the  waiting 
Indians  and  fishermen  see  them  rising  freely  out  of  the  water.     Yet,  much  of 


The  first  salmon. 


16-1 


BOYi^'  BOOK   OF  iSFOETS. 


A  famous  Canadian  salmon-pool.     Junction  of  the  Metapedia  and  Restigouche. 

this  leaping  is  plainly  only  for  sport,  and  many  people  claim  that  salmon  actually 
eat  nothing  at  all  during  the  time  that  they  are  going  up  rivers.  These  rivers 
offer  a  succession  of  pools  and  rapids.  In  almost  every  pool,  during  the  day- 
time, in  summer,  there  are  salmon  resting  from  the  labor  of  stemming  the  current. 
It  is  said  that  at  night  they  are  often  to  be  found  on  the  bars  in  the  shallow  rapids 
above  the  pools.  If  the  water  is  low,  they  ascend  very  slowly,  but  any  rise  in 
the  river  stimulates  them  into  a  rapid  movement  upward.  When  they  descend 
rivers,  they  back  down  much  of  the  way  tail  foremost,  although  the  distance 
may  be  over  a  hundred  miles.  In  swiftly  running  water  they  are  forced  to  do 
this,  for  otherwise  the  water  would  rush  into  their  gills  and  drown  them.  In 
still  pools  they  make  short  runs  down  river,  but  they  quickly  wheel  about  and 
lie  with  their  heads  to  the  current.  When  they  are  descending,  they  are  thin 
and  ravenous ;  but  they  rapidly  gain  in  plumpness  after  reaching  the  sea.  In 
weight  the  salmon  of  the  Canadian  rivers  average  between  twenty  and  twenty- 
five  pounds.  I  suppose  a  season's  catch  would  hardly  average  more  than  twenty 
pounds,  for  it  would  include  many  grilse  of  from  eight  to  ten  pounds  weight, 
and  salmon  weighing  only  five  or  six  pounds  more.  A  thirty-pound  salmon  is 
very  large,  and  a  forty-pound  fish  will  be  talked  of  throughout  the  season ; 
although  it  is  said  that  salmon  weighing  fifty,  and  one  weighing  fifty-four, 
l)Ounds  have  been  caught  in  the  Restigouche.  The  Princess  Louise,  the  daughter 
of  the  Queen  of  England  and  the  wife  of  tlie  Marquis  of  Lome,  the  former 
Governor-general  of  Canada,  caught  a  forty-pound  suhnon  in  the  Causapscal 
River,  in  the  province  of  Quebec,  a  few  years  ago.  In  the  summer  (»f  1885  I  em- 
ployed one  of  the  canoe-men  who  had  been  with  the  Princess,  and  he  had  a  great 
deal  to  say  about  her  skill  in  handling  that  salmon.  I  don't  think  he  cared 
mucli  a>)out  otluT  m<'ml)ers  of  the  royal  family,  but  "  Tlic  Princess,  sir,  she  was 


A    Jx'OYJL    FISH. 


1G5 


a  good  uu  with  the  rod."  Salmon  weighing  sixty  pounds  arc  taken,  now  and 
then  in  Scotch  rivers,  and  a  few  rivers  in  England  still  yield  large  fish.  Sir  John 
Hawkins  speaks  of  a  salmon  caught  in  an  English  river  in  A\>y\\,  ITcSi),  which 
was  four  feet  long,  three  feet  around  the  body,  and  weighed  seventy  pounds. 
There  is  a  story  told  of  a  Highlander  who  hooked  a  salmon  in  the  River  Awe, 
and  played  the  tisli  for  hours,  until  night  came  on  without  his  being  able  to  tire 
it  out.  Then,  as  the  fish  was  sulking  (piietly  at  the  bottom,  he  lay  down,  took  the 
line  in  his  teeth,  that  any  motion  might  waken  him,  and  went  to  sleep.  The 
Highlander  slept  and  the  salmon  sulked  until  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
when  some  friends  of  the  former  came  to  look  for  him.  With  their  help  he 
managed  to  land  the  fish  about  daybreak,  and  it  weighed  seventy-three  pounds. 
This  was  certaiuly  a  giant,  but  a  salmon  weigliing  eighty-three  pounds  is  re- 
ported to  have  once  been  sent  to  the  London  market.  It  would  be  a  serious 
matter  for  any  of  our  readers  to  make  fast  to  a  salmon  as  large  as  that.     But 

it  will  not  happen  on 
^-=s         ^^  .  this  side  of  the  ocean, 

^a*^  *    -   '  There    is    only  one 

I  way  in  which  a  true 

sportsman  will  catch 
a  salmon,  and  that 
is  by  fly-fishing.  But 
there  are  a  great 
many  other  ways, 
some  of  which,  al- 
th(mgh  unfair,  are 
^i^  rather  curious.      Sal- 

mon have  been  caught 
with   an   ax,   with    a 
pitchfork,      with       a 
wheel,  with  many  tVu-ms  of  nets  and 
spears,  by  ti-olling,  and  l\v  still-l)ait 
fishing. 

On  this  side  of  the  ocean,  trolling 
for  salmon  is  imknown;  there  is  very 
little,  if  any,  bait-fishing,  and  a  sal- 
mon-spear, in  the  North-east  at  least, 
red  or  white  poacher.  Poaching  on  Canadian 
rivers  has  diminished,  but  the  law  is  still  broken  on  the  sly,  and  many  odd 
stories  are  told  of  poachers'  tricks.  Nearly  all  these  rivers  are  watched  by  two 
sets  of  wardens.  There  are  the  Government  wardens  appointed  to  prevent  illegal 
fishing  with  nets  or  spears,  or  out  of  season,  and  there  are  wardens  employed 
by  private  persons  to  watch  the  water  which  they  lease;  for,  every  pool  in  a 


"Hooked." 
is  only  to  be  f(mud  in  the  hands  of 


IGG  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SFORTS. 

salmou  river  is  valuable  property.  Once  the  Government  claimed  the  fishing  priv- 
ileges, but  it  was  decided  that  the  owners  of  lauds  along  the  rivers  controlled  the 
water ;  and  now  the  farmer's  income  from  his  water  is  sometimes  larger  than 
that  from  his  land;  and  the  liiuits  of  each  ownership  are  as  carefully  marked  off 
as  are  the  limits  of  farms  or  of  town  lots.  The  unlawful  act  which  the  wardens 
most  carefully  try  to  guard  against  is  ''  drifting.''  One  or  two  poachers  will 
steal  out  at  night  carrying  a  peculiarly  made  net  in  their  canoes.  They  stretch 
this  across  the  head  of  a  pool ;  and  it  is  so  weighted  and  buoyed  that  it  stands 
upright,  reaching  nearly  to  the  bottom.  As  the  current  drifts  the  net  downward, 
one  canoe  stays  at  each  end  to  keep  it  straight.  There  is  usually  a  white  manilla 
rope  at  the  bottom  of  the  net.  Seeing  this,  the  salmon  raise  themselves  a  little, 
only  to  be  caught  by  the  gills  in  the  meshes.  When  the  shaking  of  the  net  shows 
that  one  is  caught,  the  poacher  quickly  paddles  to  the  spot,  raises  the  net,  kills 
the  fish  with  a  blow  on  its  head,  and  throws  it  into  the  canoe.  In  this  sneaking 
way,  nearly  all  the  salmon  in  a  pool  may  be  netted  out  in  a  night.  If  the  wardens 
happen  to  come  along  in  their  dug-outs,  they  try  to  seize  the  net  and  identify 
the  poachers.  Then  there  may  be  a  fight,  and  perhaps  a  canoe  will  be  sunk,  and 
a  poacher  or  a  warden  will  get  a  cold  bath.  On  one  river  the  poachers  used  to 
station  a  boy  on  an  island  below  them,  with  a  horn  which  he  blew  whenever  the 
wardens  approached.  One  of  the  latter  was  so  active  that  the  poachers  resolved 
to  punish  him.  They  took  an  old  worthless  net  and  stretched  it  out  into  the 
river  from  a  rock  on  the  bank.  A  rope  was  rove  through  the  net  and  the  shore 
end  made  fast  over  a  pulley  to  the  traces  of  a  horse  on  shore.  A  boy  stood 
beside  the  horse,  and  two  poachers  in  a  canoe  held  the  outer  end  of  the  net. 
Down  came  the  warden,  poling  along  in  his  dug-out,  and  pulled  the  end  of  the 
net  away  from  the  seemingly  unwilling  poachers.  He  began  taking  it  into  his 
dug-out,  congratidating  himself  on  his  prize,  and  had  hauled  it  half-way  in  when 

the  boy  on  shore  struck  the  horse, 

which  started  on   a  full  gallop  up 

the  bank,  jerking  the  net  after  him. 

In  a  flash  the  net  was  pulled  out  of 

the  dug-out,  the  latter  upset,  and 

the  astonished  warden  pitched  into 

the  river.     But  I  hope  the  poach- 

The  salmon.  ^^.^   Were   puuislied    in  their  turn ; 

for,  if  these  lawless  men  had  their  way,  there  would  be  no  salmon  left  in  tlie 

rivers,  and  no  such  glorious  sport  as  fly-fishing. 

It  is  for  this  that  hundreds  of  Americans  go  away  down  East  every  summer. 
One  of  the  most  enthusiastic  has  been  ex-President  Arthur.  At  the  junction 
of  the  Metapedia  and  Restigouche  rivers  are  the  comfortable  buildings  of 
the  Restigouche  Salmon  (.'lul),  which  is  composed  of  New  York  gentlemen.  In 
front  of  the  club-house  is  tlu-  finest  pool  on  the  river,  and  the  club  owns  land 


A   ROYAL  FISH. 


167 


some  miles  above.      Below,  several  pools  are  leased  by  a 

lean  club,  and  Americans  paythousauds  of  dollars  for  fisli- 

ou  rivers  all  the  way  from  Nova  Scotia  to  Lal)rador. 

readers  may  have   accompanied   their  fathers  or  big 

adian  salmon  rivers,  and  themselves  landed  salmon. 

may  do  so  soon. 


and  water  f  or 
smaller  Amer- 
\ng    privilege 
Some  of  my  boy 
brothers  to  Can 
If  not,  I  hope  they 

For  this  fishing, 
and  weighing  about 
material,    but    satis-     \ 
or    greenheart.      The    \ 
fifty  yards  of  braided 
ing    line   is  added,   but 
to  the  silk  line.   Only  one 
on  the  leader  at  one  time, 
in  the  middle  of  a  cranky 
with  an  Indian  at  the  bo 
to  the  head  of  a  salmon  pool, 
mountains.      Just   below   the 
into  midstream   and  drop   the 
upon  the  stones  of  the  bottom, 
seem  awkward  if  you  have  been     \ 
troiit-rod,   and  holding  it  in  both 
low  the   reel,  begin  to  make  short 
side.     It  is  always  well  to  whip  the 
there  is  no  telling  where  a  salmon  may 
over  the  side  of  my  canoe  into  the  very 
It  lay  at  the  bottom,  looking  up  at  me 
its    tail    scornfully    and   disappeared.     I 
more  of  him.      You  will  lengthen  out  the 
time,  as  you  continue  casting,  and  you  will 
of  your  rod  moving  a  little  up  and  down,  so 
in  motion  in  the  water.     Possibly  the  longed- 
jump  out  of  water  at  the  fly.     If  so,  he  will 
More  likely,  you  will   suddenly  see   a  mighty 
water,  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  head,  perhaps,  and 
at    least  you   are   certain    to,  if  you  '^  strike " 
see  the  swir-1.     Then  all  in  the  same  instant  the 
to  scream  and  your  heart  to  beat  like  a  trip-ham 
comes  the  anchor,  the  Indians  paddle  over  to  one 
the  river,  and  you  manfully  keep  the  rod  pointing 
clutching  it  with  your  left  hand  above  the  reel,  the 
butt  pressed  against  your  waistcoat  buttons,  and  your  right 


a  boy  should  use  a  rod  not  over  sixteen  feet  long, 

twenty-seven  ounces.     Split  bamboo  is  the  finest 

factory  rods  are  made  of  ash  and  lancewood 

heavy  reel  holds  a  hundred  or  a  hundred  and 

ilk  line.    Sometimes  a  long  horse-hair  cast- 

oftener  the  gut  leader  is  fastened  directly 

of  the  large  gaudy  salmon  flies  is  used 

Suppose  yourself  thus  equipped,  sitting 

birch-bark  canoe,  on  the  Restigouche, 

and  another  at  the  stern,  jjaddling 

as  the  morning  mists  rise  from  the 

rapids  the  Indians  turn  the  canoe 

anchor,    which    clinks    musically 

You  take  up  the  rod,  which  wiU 

using  a  seven   or  eight   ounce 

hands,  one  above  and  one  be- 

casts  in  front  and  on  either 

water   near    the   canoe,  for 

be.     Once   I   looked  down 

^     eyes  of   a  large    salmon. 

^      for  a  moment,  then  flirted 

should  like  to  have  seen 

line  a  few  feet  at  a 


always  keep  the  point 

that  your  fly  shall  be 

for     salmon     will 

probably  miss  it. 

swirl    in    the 

feel  a  tug; 

when      you 

reel   begins 

mer.       Up 

-^    side    of 

_,     upward, 

end   of    the 

hand  ready 


168 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 


to  reel  in  line  if  the  fis-h  eomes  toward  yon  or  snlks  at  the  bottom.  Then  all  at 
once  somethinj^  happens  which  takes  away  your  breath.  Right  before  your  eyes 
the  great  fish  leaps  four  feet  from  the  water,  his  writhing  body  curved  like  a 
silver  bow,  and  glistening  in  the  sunlight  until  he  falls  back  with  a  splash  that 
almost  stops  your  heart's  beating,  for  fear  he  has  broken  loose.  But  no  !  You 
instinctively  lowered  the  tip  of  your  rod  when  he  jumped,  and  he  did  not  fall 
upon  a  taut  line  as  he  hoped  and  break  away.  The  reel  screams  again  as  the 
salmon  darts  off  down  river  j  and  as  the  canoe-men  paddle  after,  you  think  of  the 
Indian  Avho  lassoed  the  locomotive.  Perhaps  he  will  rush  through  the  lower 
rapids  into  the  pool  below.  Never  fear !  He  is  well  hooked,  and  the  strain  of 
the  rod  is  telling.  Backward  and  for- 
w^ard  he  darts  while  1he  line  c  uts  the 
water ;  now  he  is  sidkmg  (juletl^ , 
again  he  startles  you  by  a  ^^\\(\.  leaj). 
At  last  he  begins  to  jnield.  The  canoe- 
men  paddle  you  to  a  beach  where  you 
cautiously  step  out,  keeping  your  face 
to  the  foe.  Slowly,  carefully  you  reel 
in  line,  straining  the  fish  toward  you 
The  Indians  wait  with  the  gA^,  a  large 
steel  hook  in  the  end  of  a  stout  pole. 
Now  the  salmon  mates  a  despairing 
run,  then  growing  weaker,  he  obe}^ 
your  strain.  You  can  see  him  plainl\ 
as  he  comes  into  shallow  w  ater.  What 


A  salmon  pool  on  the  St.  Johu  River,  Canada. 


A    KOYAL    FISIL 


169 


Iki 


if  you  sliould  lose  liiiii  now!  The  liulians,  bent  doiil.lc,  aukle-deep  in  water, 
watch  his  every  motion.  One  strikes  at  him,  but  misses,  and  tlie  j^allaut  fish 
makes  another  fig-ht  for  life.     But  now  he  is  within  reach.     The  j^aff  is  raised 

carefully,    you     hokl     your 
,  ^   '"  breath,    and    now   tlie    steel 

pierces  that  silvery  side,  and 
out  of  the  foaming  water  the 
gaff  draws  a  nol)le  salmon, 
your  first — and  let  me  hope 
a  forty -pounder.  Perhaps 
twenty  minutes  have  passed 
since  you  hooked  him ;  per- 
haps an  hour ;  but  it  seems 
as  if  you  have  lived  an  age. 

May   all  my  boy  readers 
at    some    time    know    such 
thrilling  sport  as  this !  And 
_^^       ___         _  _  when  their  sisters   come    to 

young    ladyhood,    they  also 
A  sudden  stop.  ^^y  jj^pg   ^q  emulate  their 

brothers,  and  some  time  land  a  salmon.  At  least  they  can  have  the  sport 
without  holding  the  rod.  One  of  the  prettiest  sights  which  I  saw  on  the  Res- 
tigouehe  was  the  eager  face  of  a  little  girl  in  a  canoe  as  she  watched  her 
father,  who  was  fighting  a  twenty-five  pound  salmon.  Looking  at  her  parted 
lips  and  wide-open  eyes,  I  felt  sure  that  girls  as  well  as  boys  could  feel  the 
fascination  of  that  most  exciting  of  all  forms  of  angling,  salmon-fishing. 


^'''%;.¥f^^%^i^"'^1^  , '  ^  ^^^i^iT^M 


f\  r 


The  Gentle  Angler. 


ODD    MODES   OF  FISHING 


By  Daniel  C.  Beakd. 


pe- 


^ie-.==_ 


f^  "  TUGGING  for  cats"  is  a  most 

"^^  tJ  ciiliar  and  original  manner  of 
fishing,  common  among  the  colored 
people  of  the  Southern  States.  It 
combines  exercise,  excitement,  and 
fun  in  a  much  greater  degree  than 
the  usual  method  of  angling  with  the 
rod  and  reel. 
^         '  The  tackle  necessary  in  this  sport 

is  very  simple  :  it  consists  of  five  or 
six  empty  jugs  tightly  corked  with  corn-cobs,  and  a 
stout  line  five  feet  in  length,  with  a  sinker  and  a  large 
hook  at  the  end.  One  of  these  lines  dangles  froiu  the 
handle  of  each  jug.  Baits  of  many  kinds  are  used, 
but  a  bit  of  cheese,  tied  in  a  piece  of  mosquito-netting  to  prevent  its  Avashing 
away,  appears  to  be  considered  the  most  tempting  morsel. 

When  all  the  hooks  are  baited,  and  the  fisherman  has  iusijected  his  lines  and 
found  everything  ready,  he  puts  the  jugs  into  a  boat  and  rows  out  upon  the 
river,  dropping  the  earthenware  floats  about  ten  feet  apart  in  a  line  across  the 
middle  of  the  stream. 

The  jugs  will,  of  course,  be  carried  down  witli  the  current,  and  will  have  to 
be  followed  and  watched.  When  one  of  them  begins  to  behave  in  a  strange 
manner,  turning  upside  down,  bobbing  about,  darting  up  stream  and  down,  the 
fisherman  knows  that  a  large  fish  is  hooked,  and  an  exciting  chase  ensues.  It 
sometimes  requires  hard  rowing  to  catch  the  jug,  for  often  when  the  fisherman 
feels  sure  of  his  prize  and  stretches  forth  his  hand  to  grasp  the  runaway,  it  darts 
off  anew,  frequently  disappearing  from  view  beneath  the  water,  and  coming  to 


172 


BOYS'    HOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


the  surface  ag-aiu  yards  aud  yards  away  from  where  it  had  left  the  disappointed 
sportsman. 

One  wouhl  think  that  the  pursuit  of  just  one  jug,  which  a  fish  is  i)iloting 

around,  iniglit  prove  exciting 
enough.  But  imagine  the 
si)ort  of  seeing  four  or  five 
of  them  start  off  on  their  an- 
tics at  about  the  same  mo- 
ment. It  is  at  such  a  time 
that  the  skill  of  the  fisherman 
is  tested,  for  a  novice,  in  his 
hurry,  is  apt  to  lose  his  head, 
thereby  losing  his  fish  also. 
Instead  of  hauling  in  his  line 
carefully  and  steadily,  he  gen- 
erally pulls  it  up  in  such  a 
hasty  manner  that  the  fish  is 
able,  by  a  vigorous  flop,  to 
tear  itself  away  from  the  hook. 
To  be  a  successful  ''jugger," 
one  must  be  as  careful  and 
deliberate  in  taking  out  his 
fish  as  though  he  had  only 
that  one  jug  to  attend  to,  no 
matter  how  many  others  may 
be  claiming  his  attention  by 
their  franti(;  signals.  The  il- 
lustration shows  a  jug  turned 
bottom  upward,  the  line  hav- 
ing just  been  pidled  by  a  fish 
taking  a  nil)ble  at  the  bait, 
without  having  (juite  made  up 
its  mind  to  swallow  it. 

Another  method  of  catching 
fish,  in  principle  similai-  to 
jugging,  is  by  means  of  a 
jumping-jack,  or  small,  joint- 
ed man,  whose  limbs  are 
An  active  juR.  luovcd  by  jcrkiug  a  string  at- 

tached to  them.  This  little  figure  is  fastened  to  a  stick,  which  is  secured  in 
an  n])right  i)osition  on  a  float,  nuvde  of  a  i)iece  of  board.  Through  a  hole  in  the 
float  is  passed  tlic  string  attached  to  the  figure,  and  tied  securely  to  this  are  the 


ODD   MODKS   OF  FISHING. 


173 


luiok  and  lino.  After  the  liook  is  baited,  the 
float  is  plaeed  on  the  surface  of  the  water, 
and  tlie  little  man,  standing  upright,  is  left 
1  < »  wait  in  patience. 

Presently  a  fish,  attracted  Ity  the  Lait, 
i-onies  nearer  the  surface,  seizes  the  hook 
([uickly,  and  darts  downward,  pulling-  the 
string  and  making  the  little  figure  throw 
up  its  arms  and  legs,  as  though  dancing 
for  joy  at  having  performed  its  task  so  well. 
The  capering  of  Jack  is  the  signal  to  his 
nuister  that  a  fish  has  been  caught,  and  is 
struggling  to  free  itself  from  the  hook.  This 
manner  of  fishing  is  necessarily  confined  to 
quiet  bodies  of  water,  such  as  small  lakes  or 
ponds,  for  in  rough  water  poor  little  Jack 
would  be  upset. 

A  very  simple  but  ingenious  contrivance 
V  }i(>  arran2:ed 


side 


for  fishing  through  the  ice  in; 
by  fastening  at  the  end  of 
a  light  rod,  a  foot  or  two 
in  length,  a  snuill  signal- 
flag  ;   a  piece  of  any  bright- 
colored  cloth  answers  the  pur- 
pose.   This  rod  is  bound  with 
strong  string  to  a  second  stick, 
which  is  placed  across  the  hole, 
lying  some  inches  upon  the  ice 
at  either  side ;    the   flag,  also,  rests  on  the  ice,  leaving  a  short 
piece  of  the  flag-rod  projecting  over  the  cross-stick ;   to  this  short 
end  the  line  and  hook  are  fastened.    The  hook  is  baited  with  a  live 
minnow,  and  low'cred  through  the  hole.     The  tackle  is  then  in 
readiness    for    the   capture   of    a  pickerel.     When    the   fish    is 
hooked,  his  struggles   keep  the  flag  flying.     The  illustration 
shows  a  fish  in  the  act  of  taking  the  bait.      If  the  "  nibble  " 
proves  a  strong  one  and  the  pickerel  is  caught,  the  flag 
waving  from  the  upright  staff  will  signal  the  young  fish-     , 
erman,  who  by  this  easily  contrived  and  automatic 
fishing-tackle  may  be  able  to  attend  to  a  number  of 
lines  if  the  holes  are  within  sight  from  one  another. 


1 


Vv 


^^, 


Jack. 

3   flag,  also,  rests  on 


Not  iKiiuUoiiic.  l)ut  a  iroud  lisheruui 


ARCHERY 


He  ibai  hiis  that  Pod  at  tiVe-scope  yapds, 


1  cal!  birr)  ap  apchep  rit  to  beap  both  boui  apd 
quiVep  betope  a  kin§." 


5ip  Waltep  Scott. 


THE  BOW  AND  ITS  USE 


By  Maurice  Tho:\ipson. 


IN  this  paper  I  purpose  to  give  boys  a  eoni])lete  manual  of  the  art  of  shooting 
with  the  bow  and  arrows,  as  well  as  a  slight  outline  of  the  history  of  archery. 

The  bow  and  arrows  are  older  than  any  records  of  history.  Even  the  most 
ancient  inscriptions  give  us  no  clew  to  their  invention.  Nearly  all  the  savage 
tribes  of  men  of  every  country  and  time  have  possessed  the  bow  as  a  weapon 
handed  down  through  countless  generations  from  an  unknown  date. 

The  ancient  Egyptians  were  archers,  so  were  the  Parthians,  the  Scythians  and 
Carduehians,  as  well  as  the  more  savage  peoples  of  Europe  and  Southern  Africa. 

When  Columbus  discovered  America,  the  wild  men  of  our  forests  were  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows  of  sufficient  power  and  workmanship  to  render  them 
quite  deadly  weapons,  and  the  researches  of  archfpologists  have  disclosed  the  fact 
that  for  unknown  ages  before  the  time  of  Columbus,  stone  arrow-heads  were  used 
by  tribes  probably  long  extinct  when  he  made  his  discovery.  So  it  is  probable 
that  the  invention  of  the  bow  and  arrow  antedates  every  form  of  civilization. 

It  is  believed  that  archery  was  practiced  in  Great  Britain  by  the  primitive 
inhabitants,  though  it  may  have  been  introduced  by  the  Romans ;  but  after  the 
Norman  conquest  the  art  rose  to  its  highest  perfection,  and  England  became 
renowned  the  world  over  for  its  matchless  bowmen.  The  British  archers  won 
many  famous  battles,  and  their  skill  and  prowess  were  sung  by  the  poets  and 
praised  by  historians.    Even  kings  were  proud  to  be  able  to  excel  with  the  bow. 

About  the  time  of  the  Norman  conquest,  in  an  early  part  of  the  eleventh 
century,  the  cross-bow  came  into  use.  It  was  the  most  deadly  of  all  the  missile 
12 


178 


HOYS'  BOOK   OF  sroliTS. 


weapons  before  tlie  perfecting  of  fire-arms.  Tlie  Spaniards  brought  it  to  the 
greatest  degree  of  effieieney,  but  the  French  and  English  also  made  very  fine 
cross-bows.  It  was  very  simply  constructed.  The  stock  was  of  black  oak,  carved 
to  suit  the  taste  of  the  maker,  whilst  the  lathe,  or  bow,  was  of  spring  steel.  The 
stocks  of  some  cross-bows  were  straight,  others  were  crooked,  somewhat  after 
the  shape  of  the  stock  of  a  gun,  A  great  many  of  these  weapons  had  wooden 
bows  in  the  place  of  steel  lathes ;  these  were  made  of  yew- wood.  The  arrows 
of  the  cross-bow  were  called  quarrels,  or  bolts.  They  were  shorter,  thicker,  and 
heavier  than  the  aiTows  of  the  English  long-bow.  The  place  in  the  cross-bow 
where  the  string  is  fastened  when  it  is  pulled  back,  ready  to  shoot,  is  called  the 
nut.  From  the  nut  to  the  fore  end  of  the  stock  the  wood  is  hollowed  out,  so 
that,  when  a  quarrel  is  placed  in  position  for  firing,  it  does  not  touch  the  stock, 
except  at  the  tip  of  its  notch  and  the  point  where  it  lies  on  the  fore  end.  The 
trigger  adjusted  on  this  stock  works  on  a  pivot,  causing  the  nut  to  free  the 
string,  whereupon  the  bow  discharges  the  quarrel. 

The  history  of  the  cross-bow  is  very  interesting,  Richard  the  Lion-hearted 
was  a  great  cross-bowman.  He  carried  a  very  strong  arbalist  (the  old  name  for 
cross-bow)  with  him  everywhere.  Even  on  his  long  expedition  to  Palestine 
against  the  Saracens  his  favorite  weapon  was  his  constant  companion.  It  is 
said  that  at  the  siege  of  Ascalon  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  aimed  his  quarrels  so 
skillfidly  that  many  an  armed  warrior  on  the  high  walls  was  pierced  through 
and  through.  The  steel  bolts  fired  from  the  strongest  cross-bows  would  crash 
through  any  but  the  very  finest  armor.  There  are  breast-plates  and  helmets  of 
steel,  preserved  among  British  antiquities,  which  have  been  pierced  by  quar- 


I  have  read  in 


'h   and   Spanish,  all  about 


how   these    terrible    weapons 
were  made  and  used. 

The  media?val  arbalister,  as 
the  cross-bowman  was  called, 
is  represented  in  old  drawings 
and  engravings  as  a  strong, 
heavy-limbed  man,  wearing  a 
helmet  and  a  coat  of  chain 
mail,  or  of  quilted  silk  and 
thongs  of  raw-hide,  and  a 
loose,  shirt-like  garment  over 
all,  bolted  at  the  waist.  He  stands  in  the  attitude  of  aiming,  with  his  feet  planted 
firmly  on  the  ground,  his  bow-stock  resting  in  the  hollow  of  his  left  hand 
whilst  his  right  forefinger  presses  the  trigger.  He  takes  sight  over  the  point 
of  his  quarrel.  His  attitude  is  very  much  like  that  of  a  rifleman  aiming  a  rifle. 
The  manner  of  hunting  deer  in  those  days  was  to  stand  in  a  spot  whence 
you  could  see  in  all  directions  through  the  forest,  while  a  number  of  expert 
woodsmen  drove  the  game  near  to  you  as  you  held  your  arbalist  ready  to  shoot. 


The  cross-bow. 


THE  r.nW  A  XT)  TT^   VSE 


179 


A  cross-bowman  of  the  Middle  Ajj;es. 


If  you  shot  at  a  running  deer,  you  would  have  to  aim  far  ahead  of  it  in  order  to 
bring  it  down. 

Hare  or  rabl)it  shooting  was  great  sport  for  the  cross-bowmen.  For  this 
purpose  lighter  arbalists  were  used.  The  hunter  kept  carefully  trained  dogs, 
somewhat  like  our  pointers  and  setters,  whose  business  it  was  to  find  the  game. 
Twenty-five  yards  was  about  the  usual  distance  for  shooting  at  rabbits.  They 
were  rarely  shot  while  running. 

The  long-bowmen  of  England  cordially  hated  the  arl^alisters,  especially  when 
it  came  to  shooting  game  in  the  green  woods.  The  good  yeomen  who  had  spent 
years  of  unremitting  practice  to  become  proficient  with  the  famous  Norman 
long-bow  could  not  bear  to  see  lazy  fellows,  who  had  never  given  a  month  to 
practice,  coming  into  the  best  hunting-grounds  armed  with  those  murderous 


180 


BOYS'   BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


steel  cross-hows.  A  great  deal  of  quarreling  and  bloodshed  was  the  result.  So, 
as  I  have  said,  the  Government  of  England  passed  stringent  laws  against  the 
arbalist,  and  the  weapon  became  somewhat  dishonored.  But  in  France  and 
Spain  it  held  the  supremacy  over  all  the  weapons  of  the  chase. 

At  a  very  early  date  the  wood  of  the  yew-tree  was  discovered  to  be  the  best 
suited  for  bows,  and  the  English  self-yew  long-bow  remains  to  this  day  the 
historic  weapon  about  which  cluster  the  most  romantic  legends  of  our  language. 
In  fact,  the  long  flint-lock  rifle  of  the  early  American  woodsman  and  the  boAv  of 
the  British  yeoman  must  always  remain  sharply  defined 
in  the  history  of  the  world. 

When  gunpowder  and  fire-arms  were  perfected  to  a 
certain  degree,  archery  began  to  decline,  and  it  is  now 
practiced  only  as  a  sport.  Since  1844  the  art  has  been 
scientifically  developed  in  England,  and  in  1857  Mr. 
Horace  A.  Ford,  at  Cheltenham,  achieved  with  the  bow 
the  greatest  public  success  of  which  we  have  any  au- 
thentic record,  of  either  ancient  or  modern  times.  In 
fact,  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  he  was  the  best 
archer  that  has  ever  lived. 

In  the  United  States  archery  has  now  been  popular 
for  several  years,  and  a  number  of  our  archers  have 
exhibited  great  skill.  Mr.  Robert  Williams,  of  Ohio, 
who  is  at  present  the  American  chamjnon,  has  made 
scores  second  only  to  the  best  English  records. 

Shooting  with 
the  long-bow  is 
charming  sport 
for  boys,  afford- 
ing most  excel- 
lent physical  and 
mental  exercise 
and  an  opportu- 
nity for  friendly 
rivalry  in  skill  in 
a  contest  where 
merit  always 
wins.  It  is  a 
game  in  which 
there  is  no  pos- 
sibility of  any 
advantage  being 
gained  by  tricks 


.S^^^J^ 


THE  BOW  AND  ITS   USE. 


181 


or  disliouost  turns.  Geii- 
uhic,  fair,  honorable 
work  is  tlie  only  road 
to  success.  Hence  it 
offers  no  temptations  to 
one  who  desires  to  over- 
reach his  competitors 
by  sharp  practices.  Tlie 
archer  must  g-ain  his  vic- 
tories literally  by  "  the 
sweat  of  his  face." 

So  long  as  the  bow 
was  used  as  a  military 
and  hunting  weapon,  the 
method  of  using  it  pre- 
vented that  nice  accu- 
racy of  execution  to 
which  modern  sports- 
men have  attained.  Of 
course  it  was  impossible 
in  battle  or  in  the  chase 
to  exactly  measure  the 
distances  to  be  shot  over, 
consequently  the  archer 
had  to  trust  wholly  to 
his  judgment.  Now,  as 
I  shall  presently  show, 
in  order  to  aim  an  arrow 
with  exact  accuracy,  the 
archer  must  know  pre- 
cisely the  distance  be- 
tween himself  and  the 
object  at  whicli  he  aims, 
whom  I  have  already  mentioned,  who  reduce 
target  practice  in  archery  to  a  s(dence,  and  1 
shall  now  proceed  to  condense  from  his  book, 


Thee 


and  Practice  of  Archer 


by  whicli  the  best  shooting  may  be  done  : 

The  first  step  is  to  get  good  weapons.  The 
self-yew  bow,  that  is,  a  bow  made  of  one  stick 
it  certainly  is  the  highest-priced  of  all  bows ; 


of  3'ew,  is  probably  the  best,  as 
but  a  very  good  weapon  is  the 
self-lancewood  bow,  to  be  bought  for  a  very  moderate  sum. 


182 


iior.y'  BOOK  OF  sports. 


^ 


2 


The  length  of  the  bow  should  be  about  that  of  the  archer.  Its  strength  should 
be  such  that  the  shooter  can  draw  it  with  ease,  without  any  straining  or  tremor 
of  the  muscles.  Says  Mr.  Ford :  "  The  self -bow  is  the  real  old  English  weapon; 
the  one  with  which  the  many  mighty 
deeds  that  rendered  this  country  (Eng- 
land) renowned  in  times  gone  by  were 
performed." 

He  states  that  Italian  and  Spanish  yews 
are  the  best  woods,  being  cleaner  and 
finer  in  the  grain  than  the  English  yew. 

"  In  shape,  the  bow  should  be  full  in 
the  center  and  taper  gradually  to  each 
horn,  not  bend  in  the  hand,  or  the  cast 
will  be  deficient."  What  is  meant  here 
by  the  ''cast"  is  the  shooting  power. 
Good  bows  are  tipped  at  each  end  with 
horn  in  which  "nocks"  or  notches  are  cut 
for  the  string,  and  are  wrapped  in  the 
middle,  or  handle,  with  soft  plush. 

Bows  have  their  strength  measured  and 
expressed  in  pounds.  Thus,  if  it  requires 
a  pull  of  40  pounds  to  draw  a  28-inch 
arrow  to  its  full  length  in  a  bow,  the 
weapon  is  called  a  40-pound  bow. 

'*  The  arrow,"  says  Mr.  Ford,  ''  is  per- 
haps the  most  important  of  aU  the  im- 
plements of  the  archer,  and  requires  the 
greatest  nicety  of  make.  .  .  .  Arrows 
are  either  selfs  or  footed;  the  latter,  the 
more  preferable,  have  a  different  and 
harder  wood  dovetailed  upon  them  at 
the  pile  end." 

"  A  shaft,"  says  Roger  Ascham,  a  very 
old  writer  on  archery,  "  hath  three  princi- 
pal parts,  the  stele  (that  is,  the  body  of  the 
arrow),  the  feather,  and  the  head."  The 
head  is  sometimes  called  iho;  pile  or  point. 

'^Red  deal,^'  continues  Mr.  Ford,  "when  of  clean,  straight  grain  and  well 
seasoned,  whether  for  selfs  or  footed  shafts,  is  incomparably  superior  to  all 
other  arrow-woods." 

"  The  feathering  of  the  arrow  is  the  most  delicate  part,  and  requii*es  great 
care  and  experience  to  effect  it." 


a? 


1,  Bow  (unstnmff) ;  2,  bow  (strung) ;  3,  barbed 

arrow  ;  4,  blunt  arrow ;  5,  quiver  and 

belt ;  G,  guard. 


THE   now  AND  ITS   USE. 


183 


The  best  arrows  have  three  feathers,  or  vanes  of  feather,  arranged  equidistant 
and  parallel  with  each  other  and  the  arrow  on  the  shaft  near  the  nock. 

The  regulation  length  of  the  arrow  is  28  inches  from  point  to  nock. 

For  expressing  the  weight  of  arrows,  English  shillings  and  pence  have  been 
adopted.  The  proper  weight  for  arrows  used  by  boys  will  vary  from  4.9.  3(/. 
to  4:S.  Gd. 

So  far  1  have  been  speaking  of  bow.s  and  arrows  which  may  be  bought  of 
archery  dealers  in  any  city,  and  it  is  quite  doubtful  whether  any  boy,  no  matter 
how  skillful  with  tools,  can  make  weapons  at  all  comparable  with  even  the 
poorest  of  those  in  the  shops.  This  is  especially  true  of  arrows  ;  for,  simple  as 
appears  theii-  mechanism,  the  finest  American  wood-workmen  have  failed  to 
make  shafts  quite  as  good  as  the  best  English  ones ;  and  since  to  do  accurate 
shooting  the  very  best  arrows  must  be  used,  it  is  hardly  worth  while  for  one  to 
attempt  to  make  his  own  weapons.  The  English  arrow-makers  have  brought 
their  art  as  near  to  perfection  as  it  is  likely  ever  to  go. 

Finger-stalls  to  cover  the  ends  of  the  fii-st,  second,  and  third  fingers  of  the 

right  hand  are  neces- 
sary in  bow- shooting, 
to  prevent  abrading  and 
blistering       the       skin. 


These   should 
thimbles      of 


be    open 
leather, 


neither  too  hard  nor  too  soft, 
made  to  fit  closely  and  smoothly. 
"The  thinner  the  leather,"  says 
Mr.  Ford,  "the  better,  provided 
always  it  be  thick  enough  to  pro- 
tect the  fingers  from  pain." 

The  bracer,  or  arm-guard,  is  a 
piece  of  hard,  smooth  leather  with 

straps  to  fasten  it  on  the  left  fore-arm  near  the  wrist,  to  prevent  the  bow- 
string from  hitting  and  wounding  the  flesh  there.  Some  of  the  best  archers 
do  not  wear  the  bracer,  preferring  to  so  hold  the  bow  that  the  protection  is 
not  needed.  Mr.  Ford,  however,  wore  a  bracer  in  making  all  his  wonderful 
scores. 


184  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

The  archery  target  is  a  flat  circular  pad  of  twisted  straw,  four  feet  in  diameter 
and  faced  with  cloth  upon  which  is  a  central  disk  called  the  gold,  usually  painted 
yellow.  Around  this  disk  is  a  band  of  red,  next  comes  one  of  blue,  then  one  of 
black,  and  lastly  one  of  white. 

The  game  is  counted  as  follows : 

A  hit  in  the  gold  counts 9 

red        "       7 

*'         "  blue       ''       5 

"         "  black     "       3 

"         ' '  white    "      1 

This  target  is  made  to  rest  on  a  tripod  or  stand,  and  its  center  should  l)e 
about  four  feet  from  the  ground  when  ready  to  be  shot  at. 

Let  us  now  have  Mr.  Ford's  method  of  shooting,  and  see  if  we  can  get  the 
secret  of  his  great  skill. 

The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  string  the  bow.  The  string  will  be  looped  at 
each  end  so  as  to  fit  the  notches  or  '"^ nocks"  of  the  bow  and  will  be  from 

two  to  three  inches  shorter  than  the 
weapon. 

Slip  the  larger  loop  over  the  up- 
per end  of  the  bow  and  slide  it  down 
i\   ^ — -        several  inches  below  the  nock,  then 
^  put  the  smaller  loop  over  the  lower 

^    "^  !  IH^SSM^^^  ®^^  ^^  ^-^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^  securely 

i^W^^I W 1  into  the  nock.    Now,  taking  the  bow- 

^«^v^^M|^  -  handle  in  the  right  hand,  place  the 

'^*^-*  low^er  end  of  the  bow  in  the  hollow 

of  the  right  foot  as  it  rests  firmly 
on  the  ground  with  the  back  of  the 
bow  next  to  the  foot ;  next  place 
the  left  hand   on  the  back  of  the 
bow  just  under  and  against  the  iip- 
\    \  I^HK      ^^^^^^-kj^'      ^^^  loop,  which  must  be  between 
\    1  ^w^^S     'l^f^y^m^-'        ^^^  thumb  and  forefinger.   Now  pull 
1 1^»      l^  ^^^^^"^  with  the  right  hand  and  push  w^th 

_     -       .  11  ■  iiiiniiiiiMfP^^  "    '       ^^^®    ^^^^^   ^^    ^^^    same    time    slip- 

^~"  '  piug  the  upper  loop  into  the  nock; 

this  done,  the  bow  is  ready  for  use. 
The  process  of  shooting  is  very 
'  """'""    "    '"^^'  simple.     Grasping  the  bow  by  the 

jilusli  liandlc  in  the  middle  with  the  left  hand,  the  archer  places  the  notch  of  the 
arrow  on  the  middle  of  the  string  witli  his  right  hand,  the  shaft  resting  across 
the  bow  on  the  left  side  just  above  and  touching  his  left  hand.  The  first  three 
fingers  of  his  right  hand,  covered  with  tips,  are  now  hooked  round  the  string 


Till':  now  AND  rrs  use. 


185 


A  shot  at  a  woodpecker. 


SO  that  the  arrow-nock  is  between  the  first  and  second.  The  left  arm  is  extended 
and  the  string  drawn  steadily  until  the  arrow-head  is  near  the  left  lian<^,  when 
the  string  is  loosed  and  the  arrow  flies  away. 

Here  is  the  position  in  which  Mr.  Ford  stood  to  shoot :  Body  easily  erect, 
feet  from  five  to  eight  inches  apart,  with  the  toes  tm'ned  slightly  out,  the  left 
side  turned  toward  the  target,  the  whole  person  easily  and  gracefully  balanced. 
Standing  in  this  position,  with  the  bow  in  the  left  hand  and  the  arrow  properly 
fixed  on  the  string  ready  for  shooting,  the  next  thing  is  to  draw ;  and  this 
operation,  though  very  simple,  is  a  very  difficult  one  to  perform  with  absolute 
correctness.  The  left  arm  must  be  extended  firmly,  by  a  steady  motion,  until  it 
is  straight,  and  at  the  same  time  the  arrow  and  string  must  be  drawn  steadily 
and  smoothly  back  to  a  point  just  below  the  shooter's  cliin,  where  the  string 
must  be  loosed  with  perfect  evenness  and  smoothness. 

In  the  meantime  the  arrow  must  have  been  ''  aimed  in,"  that  is,  the  shooter 
must  have  taken  aim  during  the  process  of  drawing  back  the  bow-string.  Mr. 
Ford  studied  the  subject  of  aiming  and  originated  a  system  which  has  never  been 
approached,  much  less  equaled,  by  any  other.    His  way  of  aiming  was  as  follows : 

Draw  the  arrow  back  with  the  string  until  at  least  three-fourths  of  its  length 
has  been  taken  up,  then  take  aim  with  the  right  eye,  keeping  both  eyes  open, 
however,  then  finish  the  di-aw  and  let  fly.    But  in  order  to  aim  successfully,  it  is 


186 


BUYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


quite  necessary  for  the  young  archer  to  understand  the  flight  of  an  arrow,  for, 
in  shooting  at  a  target,  if  the  distance  be  longer  than  about  forty  yards,  it  will 
be  observable  that  the  shaft  in  its  course  through  the  air  will  rise  higher  than 

the  top  of  the  target  even  when  suc- 
cessfully aimed.  This  curve,  through 
which  the  arrow  flies,  is  called  its 
trajectory. 

Now  suppose  you  are  using  a 
30-pound  bow  at  a  target  sixty  yards 
distant,  you  will  probably  find  that 
the  trajectory  carries  the  arrow  far 
above  the  top  of  the  target  in  order  to 
make  a  central  hit.  For  this  reason, 
if  you  wish  to  hit  the  gold  you  must 
aim  at  some  point  of  space  above  the 
top  of  the  target;  this  point  is  called 
the  point  of  aim,  and  whenever  the 
distance  shot  is  short  enough  to  make 
the  point  of  aim  fall  on  the  gold,  it  is 
called  jioint-bJanl-  range. 

Now,  in  drawing  as  above  directed, 
the  arrow  is,  of  course,  far  below  the 
shootei-'s  eyes,  and  consequently  he 
can  not  ^'  sight "  along  it,  as  he  would 
along  the  barrel  of  a  gun ;  he  must, 
therefore,  look  directly  over  the  arrow- 
point  to  the  point  of  aim.  In  other 
words,  he  must  make  the  point  of  the 
arrow  appear  to  cover  the  point  of 
aim,  whether  that  be  on  the  gold  or 
above  it. 

One  thing  about  aiming  Mr.  Ford 
strenuously  insists  upon,  viz. :  Keep- 
ing the  entire  length  of  the  arrow 
within  the  shooter's  vision  during  the  whole  operation  of  drawing,  aiming  and 
loosing.  This  is  accomplished  by  means  of  what  he  calls  *'  indirect  vision,"  the 
"  direct  vision  "  being  fixed  upon  the  point  of  aim,  and  its  object  is  to  enable 
the  sliooter  to  bring  his  arrow  into  a  right  line  under  his  eye.  "What  is  meant 
by  "indirect  vision"  will  be  readily  understood  by  pointing  your  finger  at  a 
spot  upon  which  you  have  your  eyes  steadily  fixed.  Not  only  your  finger,  but 
your  entire  arm  as  well,  will  bo  seen,  although  your  *'  direct  vision  "  is  still 
leveled  upon  the  spot  pointed  at. 


Drawing  the  bow. 


THE  BOM''  AND  ITS    USE. 


187 


To  loose  the  stj-iiio-  properly  requires  the  utmost  care  and  nicety.  Mr.  Ford 
says  :  "  However  (;orre(!t  and  perfect  all  the  rest  of  the  archer's  performance 
may  be,  the  result  will  infallibly  prove  a  failure,  and  end  in  disappointment, 
should  this  said  point  of  loosing  not  be  also  successfully  mastered."  The  loose 
should  be  affected  at  a  point  perpendicularly  under  the  archei-'s  right  eye  and 
just  below  his  chin.  The  fingers  should  slip  from  the  string  smoothly  and 
softly,  but  not  draggingly,  nor  yet  with  a  jerk,  and  in  no  case  must  they  be 
allowed  in  the  least  to  follow  the  string  in  loosing. 

''■  Especial  care  must  be  taken  that,  whilst  loosing,  the  left  arm  maintains  its 
position  firmly  and  unwaveringly,  and  does  not  give  way  at  tlui  final  moment  in 
the  slightest  degree,  as  in  this  case 
the  arrow  is  sure  to  drop  short  of  the 
mark." 

Great  care  must  bo  taken  to  make 
the  draw  to  exactly  the  same  point  at 
every  shot.  In  short,  to  become  a  reli- 
able archer  at  the  targets,  one  must 
learn  to  do  every  act  in  exactly  the 
same  way  each  time  one  shoots. 
He  who  is  continually  changing  his 
method  and  trying  new  experiments 
will  never  succeed. 

The  best  archers  lean  the  upper  end 
of  the  bow  a  little  to  the  right  in 
shooting ;  this  keeps  the  arrow  well 
in  its  place,  and  at  the  same  time  en- 
ables the  string  to  be  drawn  below  the 
chin  with  greater  ease  and  steadiness. 

The  following  five  rules,  if  memor- 
ized and  strictly  followed,  will  enable 
any  one  to  shoot  in  Mr.  Ford's  style  : 

Stand  easihj  erect  and  firmly  on 
both  feet,  with  the  left  side  toward 
the  target. 

Hold  the  how  ill  tlu'left  hand,  grasp- 
ing it  firmly  by  the  plush  haiulle. 

Lay  the  arroiv  across  the  bow  on 
the  left-hand  side,  just  above  and 
resting  against  the  first  ''knuckle" 
of  the  left  hand,  and  with  the  nock  well  set  on  the  middle  of  the  bow-string. 

Hook  the  first  three  finrjers  of  the  right  hand  (covered  with  smooth  leather 
tips)  around  the  string,  so  that  the  string  rests  against  the  balls  of  those  fingers, 


AilMi.lf,'    1 


188 


JiOYS'  HOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 


midway  between  the  first  joint  and  the  end,  witli  llie  noek  of  the  arrow  between 
the  first  and  second  fingers. 

Noiv  extend  the  left  arm,  turning  the  upper  end  of  the  bow  a  little  to  the  right, 
and  at  the  same  time  draw  the  string  and  the  arrow  along  with  it,  so  that  at 
least  three-fourths  of  the  length  of  the  shaft  is  taken  up  ;  here  pause  an  instant 
and  take  aim,  and  then  finish  the  draw  to  just  below  the  chin,  and  loose. 

Of  course,  mere  rules  can  not  make  an  archer,  any  more  than  the  multiplica- 
tion table  can  make  an  arithmetician.  Careful  study  and  intelligent  practice 
must  supplement  the  directions  above  given.  Too  much  practice,  however,  is 
not  recommended.  Bow-shooting  is  hard  work,  and  is  especially  taxing  on  the 
strength  of  the  left  arm  and  the  fingers  of  the  right  hand.  In  selecting  a  bow, 
beware  of  one  that  is  too  strong  for  easy  handling.  To  shoot  well,  the  archer 
must  be  master  of  the  bow,  instead  of  getting  a  bow  that  can  master  him. 

Boys  will  find  sixty  yards  and  less  the  best  distances  for  target  practice,  and 
in  order  that  the  young  archer  may  know  when  he  is  doing  good  shooting,  I 
here  append  tables  showing  some  scores  made  at  that  and  shorter  distances  by 
a  number  of  the  best  English  and  American  archers.  The  tables  give  the  dis- 
tance shot,  the  number  of  shots,  the  number  of  hits,  and  the  score  made  by 
each  shooter. 

Table  of  the  best  60-yards  scores  ever  made  in  England  and  America: 


H.  A.  Ford 

Maurice   Thompson 

W.  H.  Thompson 

Table  of  best  scores  at  40  yards ; 

W.  H.  Thompson 

Maurice  Thompson 

F.  C.  Havens 


Distance 
Shot. 

No.  of 
Arrows  Shot. 

No.  of 
Hit.s. 

Score. 

60 

24 

24 

ISS 

60 

24 

24 

176 

60 

24 

24 

160 

DiBtiuice 
Shot. 

No.  of 
Arrows  Shot. 

No.  of 
Hits. 

Score. 

40 

.30 

30 

246 

40 

.30 

30 

244 

40 

30 

30 

230 

AN  ARCHER  AMONG  THE  HERONS 


By  Maurice  Thompson. 


THE  herons  of  North  America  have  their  homes  for  the  most  part  in 
the  vast  swamps  of  Florida,  Georgia,  and  Louisiana,  though  in  the  warm 
season  many  species  are  seen,  scattered  ovei"  a  hirge  area  of  the  United  States, 
as  far  north  as  the  great  lakes.  These  birds  are  not  killed  for  food,  but  the 
plumes  of  several  species  are  c[uite  valuable.  This  fact  has  made  heron- 
shooting  one  of  the  principal  objects  of  the  bird-hunter,  especially  in  Southern 
Florida. 

Some  years  ago,  while  spending  a  part  of  the  winter  on  the  Floi-idian 
peninsula,  I  was  lucky  enough  to  have  a  fine  opportunity  for  trying  the  long- 
bow in  one  of  the  most  populous  haunts  of  the  herons. 

My  brother  and  myself  were  well-grown  boys, — almost  men, —  and  our  camp 
was  on  a  beautiful  head-land,  overlooking  a  narrow  inlet  of  the  gulf  of  Mexico, 
with  a  great  swamp  of  cypress  on  one  hand  and  a  dense  hummock  forest  on  the 
other.  We  had  a  sail-boat,  safely  moored  in  a  little  land-locked  bight,  and 
provisions  enough  to  last  us  for  several  weeks.  There  was  not  a  human  being 
nearer  us  than  the  inhabitants  of  a  small  village  some  thirty  miles  away.  We 
had  been  informed  that  we  should  find  vast  '^  rookeries  "  of  herons  not  far  from 
this  point,  and,  for  once,  the  statements  of  our  informant  proved  entirely  true. 
Even  before  we  landed  we  saw  a  scattered  line  of  the  wide-winged  ])irds  slowly 
beating  against  a  light  breeze  across  an  open  strip  of  marsh  toward  the 
timbered  swamp-lands,  and  as  we  were  working  our  boat  into  the  bight  of  which 
I  have  spoken,  three  or  four  snowy  herons  arose  from  a  jungle  of  tall  grass  close 
to  us  and  flew  away  in  their  peculiar,  stately  manner,  with  their  long  necks 
folded  against  their  breasts  and  their  legs  stiffly  })rojecting  behind  them.  This 
sight  made  us  impatient  to  begin  our  archery,  but  we  must  first  establish  our 
camp,  a  work  which  kept  us  quite  busy  until  nightfall. 


190 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 


lu  the  luTuu  t'ouuti'v. 


Besides  pitching  the  small  tent  that  we  had  brought  with  ns,  we  erected  a 
shed  of  brush  which  would  be  cool  to  sit  under  if  the  weather  should  get 
very  hot,  and  the  outlook  from  its  open  doorway  was  a  delight  to  our  young 
hearts. 

The  head-land  upon  which  our  camp  was  estaljlished  was  thinly  covered  ■v^'itll 
a  growth  of  slender  pine  trees,  and  between  two  of  these  we  swung  a  d(niT)le 
hammock  in  which  we  both  slept,  well  wrapped  in  our  blankets ;  for,  the  nights 
are  nearly  always  chilly  on  that  coast.  The  moon  was  almost  full,  giving  a 
splendid  light,  and  a  fresh  breeze  sometimes  swayed  us  to  and  fro.  I  awoke 
several  times  during  the  night"  and  heard  the  bitterns  croaking  far  and  near  on 
the  marsh,  their  harsh  notes  somewhat  softened  by  the  distant  sounds  of  the 
gulf  and  the  slumberous  roaring  of  the  pine-tops  overhead. 

Next  morning  we  were  up  with  the  sun,  aiul  making  ready  for  a  day  witli  the 
herons.  A  good  l)reakfast  of  broiled  bacon,  bread,  and  coffee  fortified  us  for  a 
long  tramp.  Rubber  boots,  with  oiled  canvas  legs  reaching  to  our  waists,  Avere 
our  protection  against  snakes  and  water.  We  thoroughly  oiled  our  bows  and 
selected  two  quivers  each,  one  of  heavy  and  one  of  light  shafts,  and  bestowed  a 
huKjheon  in  our  pockets.  Taking  down  the  mast  of  our  boat,  we  resorted  to 
the  oars,  and  pulled  up  the  creek  about  a  mile,  to  where  a  d(H»]i,  narrow  stream 
of  fresh  water  came  in  from  a  dense  cypress  swamp.    A  hjilf-milc  up  this  stream 


AX  ABC  HER  AM()X(f   THE  II  EBONS. 


191 


we  ran  into  a  small  ])()ii(l  whicli  was  sui-roumlril  by  a  wide  l)or(Ieriii^  of  lily- 
pads,  saw-grass,  and  clumps  of  vai'ious  kinds  of  water-shrubs,  which,  in  turn, 
was  hemmed  in  by  the  wildest  cypress  woods  I  ever  saw.  The  tree-tops  were 
litei'ally  packed  with  old  nests,  made  in  the  peculiar  heron  style, —  huge  l)ristling 
piles  of  cross-laid  sticks  not  unlike  the  brush-heaps  of  our  Western  clearings. 
Different  species  of  heron  appeared  to  have  built  here  for  years,  almost  ages  —  in 
perfect  amity.  Their  nesting  season  was  now  approaching,  and  the  liirds  were 
congregating  here 
from  many  a  watery 
and  boggy  haunt 
in  all  the  region 
round.  They  were  in 
fuU  plumage,  show- 
ing their  colors  to 
the  best  effect. 

Our  boat  soon  ran 
aground,  the  water 
in  the  pond  being 
too  shallow  to  float 
her,  so  we  had  to 
wade  ;  but  before 
leaving  the  boat,  we 
stuck  up  an  oar  with 
a  handkerchief  tied 
to  it  by  which  we 
might  find  our  way 
back. 

After  floundering 
through  water  thick 
with  lily-pads  and 
rafts  of  the  water- 
lettuce  for  perhaps 
two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards,  we  got 
fair  footing  on  a 
meadow  of  stiff, 
coarse  grass  which 
bordered  the  woods. 

Herons  were  in 
sight  in  every  di- 
rection. Will  (my  l)rother)  was  lucky  enough  to  get  the  first  shot,  but  he 
failed  to  hit,  though  the  bird,  a  white  heron  (Heroilias  egreffaj,  was  stand- 
ins;  in  full  view  not  more  than  fortv  vards  from  him.     It  rose  aiul  canu3  over 


A  white  heron  was  standing  in  full  view. 


192  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

my  head,  giving  me  a  good  wing-sliot.  I  let  go  at  it,  and,  missing  it,  marked 
mv  arrow  down  in  a  puddle  of  water  a  liundi-ed  and  fifty  yards  away.  The 
reader  no  doubt,  will  wonder  how  we  could  find  our  shafts  after  shooting 
them,  'hut  when  he  is  told  that  they  were  furnished  with  two  white  and 
one  broad  red  feather-vane,  it  will  be  understood,  for  an  arrow  always  falls 
point  downward  and  sticks  up  in  the  ground.  We  were  not  long  in  getting 
game,  however.  A  Louisiana  heron  (Demigretta  ludomcianaj  soon  fell  to 
Will's  share,  and  I  brought  a  fine  great  blue  heron  fArdea  herodiasj  to  bag. 
It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  long,  soldier-like  lines  of  these  stately  birds  stretched 
out  along  the  marshy  swales,  standing  each  one  as  if  on  picket  duty,  still  and 
solemn.  They  were  not  so  wary  and  wild  as  they  are  when  found  in  our  North- 
ern States,  but  it  was  no  easy  thing  to  get  within  good  bow-shot  of  them. 
We  kept  very  silent,  however,  and  crept  about  in  the  grass  like  Indians,  an 
arrow  always  ready-nocked  on  the  string.  The  little  green  herons  (Bntorides 
virescens)  were  much  troiible  to  us  (as  we  did  not  want  them),  flying  up  before 
us  constantly  and  scaring  the  larger  game.  The  little  blue  heron,  too,  was 
everywhere.  This  bird  (Florida  cceriileaj  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
herons-  but  the  snowy  heron  (Garzetta  candidissimaj  was  the  one  we  most 
desired  to  kill,  and,  of  course,  it  was  the  hardest  to  approach.  Go  where  we 
might,  these  grand  snow-white  birds  could  be  seen  just  beyond  bow-shot,  appar- 
ently quite  unaware  of  our  existence,  but  we  somehow  always  failed  to  get 
any' nearer  them.  It  must  be  understood  that,  in  shooting  large  birds  like 
these,  very  heavy  broad-headed  arrows  are  used,  the  utmost  certain  range  of 
which  is  from  sixty  to  eighty  yards. 

Finding  that  we  must  resort  to  cunning,  we  hit  upon  the  j^lan  of  noting  the 
exact  spot  where  a  snowy  heron  stood  and  then  stealthily  creeping  upon  it, 
under  cover  of  grass,  weeds,  bushes,  trees  or  any  other  object  that  offered.  By 
this  means  we  soon  began  to  have  some  success.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  in  connec- 
tion with  bow-shooting,  that  a  bird,  no  matter  how  timid  and  wild,  rarely  is 
startled  into  flight  by  the  first  arrow  that  strikes  near  it,  provided  the  archer  is 
not  seen.  Therefore,  the  main  thing  for  the  hunter  is  to  get  a  good  hiding-place 
within  reach  of  his  bird ;  then,  if  his  first  shaft  miss,  he  may  get  a  second  or 
third,  or  even  fourth,  shot  before  the  game  takes  to  flight.  This  gives  him 
an  advantage  which  will  be  well  understood  by  every  one  Avho  knows  anything 
al)out  bow-shooting,  as  after  his  first  shot  he  can  accurately  calculate  his  aim. 
If  his  first  shaft  fall  short,  he  will  simply  raise  his  point  of  aim  a  little,  and  if 
this  carry  the  arrow  Ix'yond,  then  a  little  h)wer  aim  willbring  the  missile  to 
about  the  right  spot. 

The  oi)ening,  or  nuirsh-glade,  in  whicli  tlie  pond  was  situated  contained  per- 
haps two  or  three  hundred  acres,  and  Avithin  that  compass  there  appeared  to  be 
fully  a  thousand  of  the  larger  species  of  herons,  whilst  there  must  have  been  a 
far  greater  number  of  the  smaller  ones,  to  say  nothing  of  bitterns,  gallinules. 


^^..' 


The  home  of  the  heron. 


18 


194 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


crying-birds  (Aramus  giganteusj,  and  an  occasional  spoonbill  and  ibis.  Besides, 
as  I  have  said,  the  cypress  wood  was  fnll  of  herons,  so  to  speak.  At  that 
time  railroads  had  not  penetrated  far  into  the  peninsula  of  Florida,  and 
very  few  hunters,  if  any,  had  ever  reached  the  neighborhood  of  our  camp. 
We  remained  there  for  the  space  of  ten  days,  and  in  all  our  wandering  saw 
but  one  native,  a  lank-looking  young  *' Cracker''  mounted  on  a  thin  little 
mule.  He  said  that  he  was  looking  for  some  strayed  cattle.  But  to  return  to 
our  heron-shooting. 

The  plumes  of  the  snowy  heron  are  long  and  fine,  draping  the  back  from  the 
shoulders  to  beyond  the  extremity  of  the  tail.  The  central  ril)  of  these  plumes 
is  very  slender  and  elastic,  and  the  down  or  feather-fibers  float  about  with  every 
breath  of  wind  like  those  of  the  ostrich  plume.    They  are  pure  white.    This  bird 

is  not  so  large  as  the  great  blue  heron,  but 
it  has  a  greater  profusion  of  fine  plumes.  The 
great  white  heron  fH.  egrettaj  has  white  or 
yellowish  white  plumes,  very  long  and  beauti- 
ful, but  they  are  stiffer  than  those  of  the 
snowy  heron.  All  of  the  herons,  in  fact,  have 
handsome  plumes. 

After  we  had  experimented  awhile,  we  began 
to  have  excellent  sport,  for  there  is  nothing  in 
the  line  of  shooting  so  exciting  as  sylvan  arch- 
ery. To  watch  one's  arrow  go  straight  and 
hard,  with  its  low  whizzing  sound,  from  one's 
bow  to  the  bird,  is  a  moment  or  two  of  intense 
suspense,  expectation,  and  delight.  Of  course, 
one  often  misses ;  he  is  a  fine  archer,  indeed, 
who  hits  half  as  often  as  he  fails,  but  the  exer- 
cise is  so  exhilarating  that  one  does  not  mind 
his  disappointments.  Then,  after  all,  taking 
into  consideration  that  a  bow  does  not  frighten 
bii-ds,  as  does  a  gun,  and  that  the  archer  gets 
more  shots  than  the  gunner,  it  is  probable  that 
a  first-rate  l)owman  will  get  his  fair  share  of 
'^  game.     I  am  quite  sure  that,  in  the  long  run, 

^  '"'^"'®-  we  killed  more  herons  during  our  stay  than  we 

would  have  killed  had  we  been  armed  with  guns,  for  with  the  latter,  one  day's 
shooting  would  have  driven  all  the  birds  from  the  grounds.  Be  this  as  it  nuiy, 
we  were  entirely  successful,  as  we  often  were  afterward  in  many  another  wild 
region. 

Some   incidents  connected  with  our  heron-shooting  may  be  given  here  as 
characteristic  of  bow-shooting  in  general.     One  fine  bird  at  which  I  shot  six 


AN  AJiCIIKR   AM(>X(r   TIIK   HERONS. 


lO.') 


times  in  suceessiou  was  kill.'d  by  the  last  arrow,  wliidi  ll<-\v  at  raiidoni.  This 
happened  in  a  very  curious  way.  It  was  a  {i:reat  white  heron  standing  in  tall 
water-grass  so  that  only  its  head  and  neck  could  be  seen.  I  crept  to  within  forty 
yards  of  it,  and  from  behind  a  clump 
of  custard-apple  bushes  began  shoot- 
ing. The  positicm  of  its  head  and  neek 
gave  me  a  fair  idea  of  about  where  its 
body  was,  I  thought,  but  what  was  my 
surprise  when  arrow  after  arrow  cut 
keen  and  clear  tlirough  the  grass  at 
exactly  the  right  spot  without  any 
effect !  In  spite  of  myself  I  became 
nervous,  and  my  sixth  shaft  flew  wild, 
striking  in  the  grass  about  a  foot  or 
more  in  front  of  and  some  distance 
below  the  l)ird's  beak,  when  utterly  to 
my  astonishment,  with  a  great  flapping 
of  wings  the  game  fell  over.  It  had 
been  looking  behind  it !  At  another 
time  I  shot  three  arrows  at  a  Louis- 
iana heron,  standing  with  its  back  to- 
ward me,  missing  it  each  time.  Just  as 
I  was  ready  to  deliver  the  f oiu-th  shaft, 
the  bird  suddenly  took  to  its  wings  and 
flew  away  in  a  direct  line  from  me.  I 
could  not  withhold  my  shot,  but  the 
movement  of  my  game  somewhat  dis- 
arranged my  aim.  Away  went  my 
arrow,  and  as  luck  would  have  it,  just 
high  enough  to  hit  the  flying  heron 
center  in  the  back,  fetching  it  down  in 
excellent  style. 

The  herons  are  all  very  interesting 
in  their  habits.  Solemn,  sedate,  and 
moody  in  appearance,  they  neverthe- 
less often  show  a  great  deal  of  vivacity ; 
and  in  catching  frogs  and  other  live 
food,  they  disclose  a  smartness  which, 
in  birds  so  large,  is  quite  comical  at 
times.  One  of  the  Florida  herons,  indeed,  is  even  provided  by  nature  with  a 
lantern  attachment,  and  its  phosphorescent  breast-feathers  disclose  the  home  of 
the  fishes,  and  aid  it  in  its  queer  night-hunting.     I  have  watched  the  great  blue 


196 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


lieroTi  in  sumiiu-i-,  on  our  small  Northern  streams  and  ponds,  spearing  frogs  with 
its  loniT,  nnirderous  bill.  It  walks  slowly  and  slyly  along  the  bank  until  it  finds  a 
place  where  a  frog  has  leaped  into  the  water,  where  it  stops  and  stands  as  mo- 
tionless as  a  stone,  apparently  asleep ;  but  no  sooner  does  the  frog  re-appear 
than,  (luick  as  a  flash,  down  goes  that  long,  keen  beak,  and  the  poor  little 
creature  is  dead  and  swallowed  ! 

The  eggs  of  all  the  species  of  heron,  so  far  as  I  now  remember,  are  pale  blue, 
or  of  a  greenish-blue  color ;  and  in  making  their  nests  these  birds  appear  to 
congregate  for  mutual  protection  from  the  hawks,  the  crows,  and  the  grakles 
that  annually  destroy  great  numbers  of  their  young  and  eggs. 

A  heron  " rookery"  is  quite  a  sight  in  the  nesting  season.  I  have  seen  many 
acres  of  densely  Avooded  swamp-land  literally  darkened  and  loaded  with  the 
birds  and  their  big  nests.  Every  available  fork,  or  prong,  bough,  bush,  or  mat 
of  vines,  had  its  huge  brushy  pile  with  a  heron  soleinnly  sitting  on  it.  In 
Florida,  very  often  I  found  nests  in  custard-apple  bushes,  not  over  three  feet 
from  the  water. 

Of  all  our  American  birds,  the  heron  is,  to  my  eye,  the  most  picturesque,  both 
in  pose  and  flight.  No  sketch  or  picture  I  ever  have  seen  has  done  justice  to 
any  of  the  species.  The  beautiful  little  green  heron  has  been  grossly  neglected 
by  our  artists,  especially  as  regards  its  right  to  a  conspicuous  place  among  our 
brook  bii'ds ;  and  the  mistake  is  too  often  made  of  associating  the  great  blue 
heron  exclusively  with  stagnant  water  and  dreary  marshes,  when  the  fact  is 
that  this  species  greatly  delights  in  pure,  clear  rivulets  and  sparkling  rivers. 
The  finest  specimen  I  ever  killed  I  shot  on  a  brook  in  Indiana.  It  measured 
over  six  feet  across  from  wing-tip  to  wing-tip.  Quite  frequently  in  my  rambles 
amongst  the  hills  of  North  Georgia  and  North  Alabama,  I  have  seen  three  or 
four  species  of  heron  wading  in  the  cold,  clear  mountain-spring  streams,  and  I 
once  found  a  pair  of  snowy  herons  nesting  in  a  small  cedar  tree  on  the  bank  of 
the  Tallulah  River,  surely  a  strange  region  for  them  to  choose ! 


BOATS  A^D    BOATING. 


spread  the  thin  oar  and  catch  the  driving  gale." 

Pope. 


SMALL  BOATS: 
HOW  TO  RICx  AND  SAIL  THEM. 


By  Charles  Ledyard  Norton. 


--^WXi'tiy 


ERY  many  persons  seem  to  ignore  the  fact  that  a 
boy  who  knows  how  to  manage  a  gun  is,  upon  the 
whole,  less  likely  to  be  shot  than  one  who  is  a 
bungler  through  ignorance,  or  that  a  good  swimmer 
is  less  likely  to  be  drowned  than  a  poor  one.  Such, 
however,  is  the  truth  beyond  question.  If  a  skilled 
sportsman  is  now  and  then  shot,  or  an  (^xpert 
swimmer  drowned,  the  fault  is  not  apt  to  be  his 
own,  and  if  the  one  who  is  really  to  blame  had  re- 
ceived proper  training,  it  is  not  likely  that  the 
accident  would  have  oecuri-ed  at  all.  The  same 
argument  holds  good  with  regard  to  the  manage- 
ment of  boats,  and  the  author  is  confident  that  he 
merits  the  thanks  of  mothers,  whether  he  receives  them  or  not,  for  here  giving 
their  boys  a  few  hints  as  to  practical  rigging  and  sailing. 

In  general,  there  are  three  ways  of  learning  how  to  sail  boats.  First,  from 
the  light  of  nature,  which  is  a  poor  way ;  second,  from  books,  which  is  better ; 
and  third,  from  another  fellow  who  knows  how,  which  is  best  of  all.  I  will  try 
to  make  this  article  as  much  like  the  other  fellow  and  as  little  bookish  as 
possil)le. 

Of  course,  what  I  shall  say  in  these  few  paragraphs  will  be  of  small  use  to 
those  who  live  within  reach  of  the  sea  or  some  big  lake,  and  have  always  been 
used  to  boats;  but  there  are  thousands  and  thousands  of  boys  and  men  who 
never  saw  the  sea,  nor  even  set  eyes  on  a  sail,  and  who  have  not  the  least  idea 
how  to  make  the  wind  take  them  where  they  want  to  go.     I  once  knew  some 


200  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

younj;  m(Mi  from  the  iuterior  who  -sveut  downi  to  the  sea-side  and  hired  a  boat, 
with  the  idea  that  they  had  nothing  to  do  but  hoist  the  sail  and  be  blown 
wherever  they  liked.  The  result  was  that  they  performed  a  remarkable  set  of 
maneuvers  witiiiu  sight  of  the  boat-house,  and  at  last  went  helplessly  out  to  sea. 
They  had  to  be  sent  after  and  brought  back,  and  they  were.  I  can  assure  you, 
well  laughed  at  for  their  performances,  and  had  reason  to  consider  themselves 
lucky  for  having  gotten  off  so  cheaply. 

The  general  principles  of  sailing  are  as  simple  as  the  national  game  of  "one 
old  cat."  That  is  to  say,  if  the  wind  always  blew  moderately  and  steadily,  it 
would  be  as  easy  and  as  safe  to  sail  a  boat  as  it  is  to  drive  a  steady  old  family 
horse  of  good  and  regular  habits.  The  fact,  however,  is  that  winds  and  currents 
are  variable  in  their  moods,  and  as  capable  of  unexpected  freaks  as  the  most 
fiery  of  unbroken  colts,  but  when  properly  watched  and  humored  they  are  tract- 
able and  fascinating  playmates  and  servants. 

Now,  let  us  come  right  down  to  first  principles.  Take  a  bit  of  pine  board, 
sharpen  it  at  one  end,  set  up  a  mast  about  a  quarter  of  the  length  of  the  whole 
piece   from  the  bow,    ^^^   fit  on  a  square  pie(!e  of  stiff  paper  or  card  for  a 

sail,  and  you  are  ready  for  action.     Put 

this    in    the    water,    with    the    sail    set 

S(piarely  across  (a,  Fig.  1),  and 

, she  will  run  off  before  the 

wind, —  which  is  supposed 
to  be  blowing  as  shown 
by  the  arrow, —  at  a 
good  rate  of  speed. 
If  she  does  not  steer 
^'^"  ^'  %    herself,  put  a  small  weight  near  the  stern,  or  square 

end ;  or,  if  you  like,  arrange  a  thin  bit  of  wood  for  a  rudder. 

Probably  the  first  primeval  man  who  was  born  with  nautical  instincts  dis- 
covered this  fact,  and,  using  a  bush  for  a  sail,  greatly  astonished  his  fellow- 
primevals  by  winning  some  prehistoric  regatta.  But  that  was  all  he  could  do. 
He  was  as  helpless  as  is  a  balloonist  in  mid-air.  He  understood  nothing  about 
jibing  or  tacking,  and  could  not  "  come  about,"  however  much  he  wished  to. 
He  could  go,  l)ut  he  could  not  get  back,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  ages  passed 
away  before  the  possil)ility  of  sailing  to  windward  was  discovered. 

Now,  put  up,  or  ''  step,"  another  mast  'and  sail  like  the  first,  about  as  far  from 
the  stern  as  the  first  is  from  the  bow.  Turn  the  two  sails  at  an  angle  of  forty- 
five  degrees  across  the  boat  (b  or  f.  Fig.  1),  and  set  her  adrift.  She  will  make 
considerable  progress  across  the  course  of  the  wind,  although  she  will  at  the  same 
time  di-ift  with  it.  If  she  wholly  refuses  to  go  in  the  right  direction,  place  a 
liglit  weight  on  her  bow,  so  that  she  will  be  a  little  "  down  by  the  head,"  or 
move  the  aftermost  mast  and  sail  a  trifle  nearer  to  the  stern. 


202 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF   SPOUTS. 


The  little,  rude  affair,  thus  used  for  experiment,  will  uot  actually  make  any 
progress  to  the  windward,  because  she  is  so  light  that  she  moves  side  wise  almost 
as  easily  as  she  does  forward.  With  a  larger,  deeper  boat,  and  with  sails  that 
can  be  set  at  any  angle,  the  effect  will  be  different.  So  long  as  tlie  wind  presses 
against  the  after  side  of  the  sail,  the  boat  will  move  through  the  water  in  the 


Fig.  2. —  Diagram  of  tacking. 


direction  of  the  least  resistance,  which  is  forward.  A  square  sail,  having  the 
mast  in  the  middle,  was  easiest  to  begin  with  for  purposes  of  explanation ;  but 
now  we  will  change  to  a  "  fore-and-aft "  rig,—  that  is,  one  with  the  mast  at  the 
forward  edge  or  "  luff  "  of  the  sail,  as  in  Fig.  2.  Suppose  the  sail  to  be  set  at 
the  angle  shown,  and  the  wind  blowing  as  the  arrow  points.  The  boat  cannot 
readily  move  side  wise,  because  of  the  broadside  resistance ;  she  does  not  want 
to  move  backward,  because  the  wind  is  pressing  on  the  aftermost  side  of  the 
sail.  So  she  very  naturally  moves  forward.  When  she  uears  buoy  No.  1,  the 
helmsman  moves  the  ''  tiller,"  or  handle  of  the  rudder,  toward  the  sail.  This 
causes  the  boat  to  turn  her  head  toward  buoy  No.  2,  the  sail  swings  across  to 
the  other  side  of  the  boat  and  fills  on  the  other  side,  which  now  in  turn  becomes 
the  aftermost,  and  she  moves  toward  buoy  No.  2,  nearly  at  right  angles  to  her 
former  course.  Thus,  through  a  series  of  zigzags,  the  wind  is  made  to  work 
against  itself.  This  operation  is  called  "tacking,"  or  *'  working  to  windward," 
and  the  act  of  turning,  as  at  the  buoys  No.  1  and  No.  2,  is  called  ''going  about." 

It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  the  science  of  sailing  lies  in  being  able  to  manage 
a  boat  with  her  head  pointing  at  any  possible  angle  to  or  from  the  wind.  Noth- 
ing but  experience  can  teach  one  all  the  niceties  of  the  art,  but  a  little  aptitude 
and  address  will  do  to  start  with,  keeping  near  shore  and  carrWng  little  sail. 

I  will  suppose  that  the  reader  has  the  use  of  a  broad  flat-b<.)ttomed  boat,  with- 
out any  rudder.  (See  Fig.  3.)  She  cannot  be  made  to  work  like  a  racing  yacht 
under  canvas,  but  lots  of  fun  can  l»c'  had  out  of  her. 


SMALL  BOATS:   HOW  TO   JUG  AND    SAIL   TIIKM. 


203 


Do  not  ^'o  to  any  considerable  ex})en.s(^  at  tlie  ontset.  Procure  an  old  sheet, 
or  an  old  hay-cover,  six  or  eij^ht  feet  sij^uare,  and  experimcuit  with  that  before 
spending  your  money  on  new  material.  If  it  is  a  sheet,  and  somewhat  weakly 
in  its  texture,  turn  all  the  edges  in  and  sew  them,  so  that  it  shall  not  give  way 
at  the  hems.  At  each  corner,  sew  on  a  few  inches  of  strong  twine,  forming 
loops  at  the  angles.  Sew  on,  also,  eyelets  or  small  loops  along  the  edge  which 
is  intended  for  the  luff  of  the  sail,  so  that  it  can  be  laced  to  the  mast. 

You  are  now  ready  for  your  spars,  namely,  a  mast  and  a  ''  sprit,"  the  former 
a  couple  of  feet  longer  than  the  luff  of  tlie  sail,  and  the  latter  to  be  cut  off  when 
you  find  how  long  you  want  it.  Let  these  spars  be  of  pine,  or  spruce,  or  bam- 
boo, as  light  as  possible,  especially  the  sprit.  An  inch  and  a  half  diameter  will 
do  for  the  mast,  and  an  inch  for  the  sprit.  To  "  step  "  the  mast,  bore  a  hole 
through  one  of  the  thwarts  (seats)  near  the  bow,  and  make  a  socket,  or  step,  on 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  just  imder  the  aforesaid  hole, —  or  if  anything  a  trifle 
farther  forward, —  to  receive  the  foot  of  the  mast.  This  will  hold  the  mast 
upright,  or  with  a  slight  "rake"  aft. 

Lace  the  luff  of  the  sail  to  the  mast  so  that  its  lower  edge  will  swing  clear  by 
a  foot  or  so  of  the  boat's  sides.  Make  fast  to  the  loop  at  d  a  stout  line,  ten  or 
twelve  feet  long.  This  is  called  the  "  sheet,"  and  gives  control  of  the  sail.  The 
upper  end  of  the  sprit,  C  E,  is  trimmed  so  that  the  loop  at  C  will  fit  over  it  but 
not  slip  down.  The  lower  end 
is  simply  notched  to  receive  a 
short  line  called  a  ''  sn  otter,"  as 
shown  in  the  detailed  drawing 
at  the  right  of  the  cut.  It  will 
be  readily  understood  that,  when 
the  sprit  is  pushed  upward  in 
the  direction  of  c,  the  sail  will 
stand  spread  out.  The  line  is 
placed  in  the 
notch  at  e 
and  pulled  up 
until  the  sail 
sits  properly, 

when    it     is  ^^^'-  ^—^  ^^^p^®  "^• 

made  fast  to  a  cleat,  or  to  a  cross-piece  at  p.  This  device  is  in  common  use  and 
has  its  advantages ;  but  a  single  loop  for  the  foot  of  the  sprit  to  rest  in  is  more 
easily  made  and  will  do  nearly  as  well,  h  is  an  oar  for  steering.  Ha\'ing  thus 
described  the  simplest  rig  possible,  we  may  turn  our  attention  to  more  elegant 
and  elaborate,  but  not  always  preferable  outfits. 

One  of  the  prettiest  and  most  convenient  rigs  for  a  small  boat  is  known  as 
the  ''  leg-of-mutton  sharpie  rig "  (Fig.  4).     The  sail  is  triangular,  and  the  sprit, 


204 


BOYS'   BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 


instead  of  reachiu^'  to  its  upper  eoriier,  stands  nearly  at  right  angles  to  the 
mast.  It  is  held  in  position  at  the  mast  by  the  devices  already  described.  This 
rig  has  the  advantage  of  keeping  the  whole  sail  flatter  than  any  other,  for  the 
end  of  the  sprit  can  not  "  kick  up/'  as  the  phrase  goes,  and  so  the  sail  holds  all 
the  wind  it  receives. 

Fig.  5  shows  a  peculiar  and  highly  ser^-iceable  device,  which  enables  the 
sailor  to  step  and  unstep  his  mast,  and  hoist  or  lower  his  sail  without  leaving 

his  seat — a  matter  of  gi-eat  importance  when 
the  boat  is  light  and  "  tottlish,"  as  in  the  case 
of  that  most  beautiful  of  small  craft,  the 
modern  canoe,  where  the  navdgator  sits 
habitually  amidships.  The  lower  mast  (a  b. 
Fig.  5)  stands  about  two  and  a  half  feet 
above  the  deck.  It  is  fitted  at  the  head  with 
a  metal  ferrule  and  pin,  and  just  above  the 
deck  with  two  half-cleats  or  other  similar 
devices  (a).  The  topmast  (c  d)  is  fitted 
at  F  with  a  stout  ring,  and  has  double  hal- 
yards (e)  rove  through,  or  around  its  foot. 
The  lower  mast  being  in  position  (see  upper 
part  of  cut),  the  canoeist  desiring  to  make 
sail  brings  the  boat's  head  to  the  wind,  takes 
the  topmast  mth  the  sail  loosely  furled  in 
one  hand,  and  the  halyards  in  the  other.  It 
is  easy  for  him  by  raising  this  mast,  without 
leaving  his  seat,  to  pass  the  halyards  one  on 
each  side  of  the  lower  mast  and  let  them 
fall  into  place  close  to  the  deck,  under  the 
half -cleats  at  a.  Then,  holding  the  halyards  taut  enough  to  keep  them  iu 
position,  he  will  hook  the  topnuist  ring  over  the  pin  in  the  lower  mast-head, 
and  haul  away  (see  lower  part  of  cut).  The  mast  will  rise  into  place,  where  it 
is  made  fast.  A  collar  of  leather,  or  a  knob  of  some  kind,  placed  on  the  top- 
mast just  below  the  ring,  will  act  as  a  fulcrum  when  the  halyards  are  hauled 
taut,  and  keep  the  mast  from  working  to  and  fro. 

The  advantages  of  the  rig  are  obvious.  The  mast  can  be  raised  without  stand- 
ing up,  and  in  case  of  necessity  the  halyards  can  be  let  go  and  the  nuist  and 
sail  unshipped  and  stowed  below  with  the  greatest  ease  and  expedition,  leaving 
only  the  short  lower  mast  standing.  A  leg-of-mutton  sail  with  a  common 
boom  along  the  foot  is  shown  in  the  cut  as  the  most  easily  illustrated  appli- 
cation of  the  device,  but  there  is  no  reason  why  it  nuiy  not  be  applied  to  a  sail 
of  different  shape,  with  a  sprit  instead  of  a  boom  and  a  sipuire  instead  of  a 
pointed  head. 


Fig.  4. — Leg-of-mutton  rig. 


SMALL   BOATS:    HOW  TO   lilG  AND   SAIL  Til  KM. 


205 


The  'Ratteen  rig"  is  .recommende.l  <mly  for  l.oats  that  are  ;^siff;'-no 
tottlish,  that  is.  The  faet  tliat  a  eousidera),le  portion  of  the  sail  projects  forward 
of  the  mast  renders  it  awkward  in  case  of  a  sudden  shift  of  wind.  Its  most 
convenient  form  is  shown  in  Fig.  G.  The  arrangement  for  shippmg  and  unship- 
ping the  yard  is  precisely  like  that  shown  in  Fig.  5- a  short  lower  mast  with  a 
pin  at  the  top  and  a  ring  fitted  to  the  yard.  It  has  a  boom  at  tlie  toot,  which 
is  joined  to  the 
yard  at  c  hy 
means  of  a  hook 
or  a  simple  lash- 
ing having  suf- 
ficient play  to 
allow  the  two 
spars  to  shut  up 
together  like  a 
pair  of  dividers. 
The  boom  (c  e) 
has,  where  it 
meets  the  short 
lower  mast,  a 
half  -  cleat      or 

jaw,  shown  in 

detail  at  the  top 

of    the     cut  — 

the  circle  repre- 

senting  a  cross 

section    of    the 

mast.        This 

should  be  lash- 
ed to  the  boom, 

as     screws     or 

l)olts  weaken  it. 

To  take  in  sail, 

the       boatman 

brings  the  boat 

to     the    wind, 

seizes  the -boom      «  -  g^^^  '^  itl- 

and  draws  it  to-  p.^  .  _  j^  i.^,,or-saviiiK  dovi.-.-. 

ward  him.  This  a  tn  ,^\ 

disengages  it  from  the  mast.  He  then  shoves  it  forward,  when  ^l^^''''^  "^^ 
falls  of  its  own  weight  into  his  hands,  and  can  be  at  once  hfted  c  ear  of  the 
lower  mast.     To  keep  the  sail  fiat,  it  is  possible  to  arrange  a  coUar  on  the 


20G 


HOYS'   BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 


low.T  mast  so  that  tlu*  !»(»(. m,  wlu-ii  (.iict-  in  position,  can  not  slip  upward  and 
sutfer  the  sail  to  hag;. 

The  'M.alaneedui;"  (shown  in  Fiir.  7)  is  deservedly  popular  with  canoeists. 
It  has  a  vard  at  the  head  and  a  b(»om  at  the  foot,  and  is  hoisted  and  lowered  by 


Fig.  C— The  lattc 


Detail  of  half-cleat  for 
latteen  rig. 


means  of  halyards  rove  through  a 
block  near  the  head  of  the  mast. 
These  halyards  should  be  so  ad- 
justed to  the  yard  that,  when  hauled 
taut,  the  sail  will  be  stretched 
smoothly  between  the  two  spars. 
The  yard  and  the  boom  are  held 
closely  to  the  mast  by  means  of 
''  parrels,"  shown  by  the  black  lines 
c  crossing  the  mast  near  a  and  B. 
These  are  simply  short  bits  of  line, 
or  straps,  fastened  to  the  spars  and 
They  hold  the  spars  closely  enough  to  the 


passing  on  other  side  of  the  mast. 
mast  for  practical  purposes,  and  yet  suffer  the  yard  to  slide  readily  up  and  down. 
The  halyard  is  sometimes  made  fast  to  the  yard-parrel,  so  that  in  hoisting  it 
acts  on  both  parts  of  the  yard  at  once.  The  boom  must  be  fastened  near  the 
foot  of  the  mast,  so  that  it  can  swing  freely,  but  can  not  be  hoisted  higher 
than  is  desired,  and  will  not  let  the  sail  bag  too  much. 

The  "  cat-rig,"  so  popular  on  the  North-Atlantic  coast,  is  indicated  in  Fig.  2. 
The  spar  at  the  head  of  the  sail  is  called  a  *•  gaff,"  and,  like  the  boom,  it  fits  the 
mast  with  semi-circular  jaws.  The  sail  is  hoisted  and  lowered  by  means  of  hal- 
yards rove  through  a  block  near  the  mast-head.  The  mast  is  set  in  the  bows, — 
''  chock  up  in  the  eyes  of  her,"  as  a  sailor  would  say.  A  single  leg-of-mutton 
sail  will  not  work  in  this  position,  because  the  greater  part  of  its  area  is  too  far 
forward  of  amid.ships.  No  rig  is  handier  or  safer  than  this  in  working  to  wind- 
ward; but  off  the  wind, —  running  before,  or  nearly  before  it,  that  is, —  the 
weight  of  mast  and  sail,  and  the  pressure  of  the  wind  at  one  side  and  far  for- 
ward, make  the  boat  very  difficidt  and  dangerous  to  steer.  Prudent  boatmen 
often  avoid  doing  so  by  keeping  the  wind  on  the  (piarter  and,  as  it  were,  tacking 
to  lei'ward. 

This  suggests  the  ([uestiou  of  "jibing."  an  operation  always  to  be  avoided  if 
possible.  Suppose  the  wind  to  be  astern,  and  the  boat  running  nearly  before 
it.     It  becomes  necessary  to  change  your  course  toward  the  side  on  which  the 


SMALL  BOATS:   HOW  TO  RIG  AND  SAIL  THEM. 


20^ 


sail  is  (Irawinj?.  Tlic  safest  way  is  to  tui-ii  at  first  in  tlic  opposite  direction,  put 
the  helm  ''down"  (toward  the  sail),  brin^-  the  boat  up  into  the  wind,  turn  her 
entirely  around,  and  stand  off  on  the  new  tack.  This,  however,  is  not  always  pos- 
sible. Hauling  in  the  sheet  until  the  sail  fills  on  the  other  side  is  ''  jibing  " ;  but 
when  this  happens,  it  goes  over  with  a  rush  that  sometimes  carries  away  mast 
and  sheet,  or  npscts  the  boat ;  hence  the  operation  should  be  first  undertaken  in 
a  light  wind.  It  is  necessary  to  know  how  to  do  it,  for  sometimes  a  sail  insists 
upon  jibing  very  unexpectedly,  and  it  is  best  to  be  prepared  for  such  emergencies. 

For  the  sails  of  such  boats  as  are  considered  in  this  paper,  there  is  no  l)etter 
material  than  unbleached,  twilled  cotton  slieetiug.  It  is  to  be  had  two  and  a 
half  or  even  three  yards  wide.  In 
cutting  out  your  sail,  let  the  selv- 
edge be  at  the  *'  leech,"  or  aftermost 
edge.  This,  of  course,  makes  it 
necessary  to  cut  the  luff  and  foot 
"  bias,"  and  they  are  very  likely  to 
stretch  in  the  making,  so  that  the 
sail  will  assume  a  different  shape 
from  what  was  intended.  To  avoid 
this,  baste  the  hem  carefully  before 
sewing,  and  ''  hold  in "  a  little  to 
prevent  fulling.  It  is  a  good  plan 
to  tack  the  material  on  the  floor 
before  cutting,  and  mark  the  out- 
line of  the  sail  with  pencil.  Stout 
tape  stitched  along  the  bias  edges 
will  make  a  sure  thing  of  it,  and 
the  material  can  l)e  cut,  making 
due  allowance  for  the  hem.  Better- 
take  feminine  advice  on  this  pro- 
cess. The  hems  should  be  half  an 
inch  deep  all  around,  selvedge  and 
all,  and  it  will  do  no  harm  to  reen- 
force  them  with  cord  if  you  wisli 
to  make  a  thoroughly  good  piect; 
of  work. 

For  running-rigging,  nothing  is 
better  than  laid  or  braided  cotton 


r.  7.— The  balan 

If  this  is  not  easily  prociu-ed. 


cord,  such  as  is  used  for  awnings  and  sash-cords, 
any  stout  twine  will  answer.  It  can  be  doubled  and  twisted  as  often  as  neces- 
sary. The  smallest  manilla  roi)e  is  rather  stiff  and  unmanageal)le  for  such 
light  sails  as  ours. 


208  HOYS'    HOOK    OF  SPOh'TS. 

In  fitting:  out  a  l)(>at  of  any  kind,  iron,  unless  g-alvanizcd,  is  to  l)e  avoided  as 
niuch  as  possildc.  on  account  of  its  liability  to  rust.  Use  brass  or  copper 
instead. 

Nothing  has  l)een  said  about  reefiug  thus  far,  because  small  boats  under  the 
raanagemeut  of  l)eginners  should  not  l>e  afloat  in  a  ''  reefing  breeze."  Reefing  is 
the  operation  of  reducing  the  spread  of  sail  when  the  wind  becomes  too  fresh. 
If  you  will  look  at  Figs.  6  and  7  you  will  see  rows  of  short  marks  on  the  sail 
above  the  boom.  These  are  "  reef-points  "—bits  of  line  about  a  foot  long  pass- 
ing through  holes  in  the  sail,  and  knotted  so  that  they  will  not  slip.  In  reefing, 
the  sail  is  lowered  and  that  portion  of  it  between  the  boom  and  the  reef -points 
is  gathered  together,  and  the  points  are  tied  around  both  it  and  the  boom. 
When  the  lower  row  of  points  is  used  it  is  a  single  reef.  Both  rows  together 
are  a  doiible  reef. 

Make  your  first  practical  experiment  with  a  small  sail  and  with  the  tcincl  How- 
ing  toward  the  shore.  Row  out  a  little  way,  and  then  sail  in  any  direction  in 
which  you  can  make  the  boat  go,  straight  back  to  shore  if  yon  can,  with  the  sail 
out  nearly  at  right  angles  with  the  boat.  Then  try  running  along  shore  with 
the  sheet  hauled  in  a  little,  and  the  sail  on  the  side  nearest  the  shore.  You  will 
soon  learn  what  your  craft  can  do,  and  will  j)r()l)ably  find  that  she  will  make  very 

I  little,  if  any,  headway  to  windward. 

This  is  partly  because  she  slides  side- 
wise  over  the  water.     To  prevent 
SHORE  it  you  may  use  a  "lee-board" — 

namely,  a  broad  board  hung  over 
the  side  of  the  boat  (g,  Fig.  3). 
This  must  be  held  by  stout  lines, 
as  the  strain  upon  it  is  very  heavy. 
It  should  be  placed  a  little  forward 
of  the  middle  of  the  boat.  It  must 
be  on  the  side  away  from  the  wind, 
—  the  lee  side, —  and  must  be  shifted 
when  vou  go  about.  Keels  and 
Fig.  8.-Making  a  landing.  center-boards   are  permanent  con- 

trivances for  the  same  purpose,  but  a  lee-board  answers  very  well  as  a  make- 
shift, and  is  even  used  habitually  ])y  some  canoeists  and  other  boatmen. 

In  small  boats  it  is  sometimes  desirable  to  sit  amidships,  because  sitting  in 
the  stern  raises  the  bow  too  high  out  of  water ;  steering  may  be  done  with  an 
oar  over  the  lee  side  or  with  '^  yoke-lines  "  attached  to  a  cross-piece  on  the  rud- 
der-head, or  even  to  the  tiller.  In  this  last  case,  the  lines  must  be  rove  through 
rings  or  pulleys  at  the  sides  of  tlic  boat  op]>osite  the  end  of  the  tiller.  "SMieu 
the  handle  of  the  oar  ii  (Fig.  3),— oi-  the  tilln-  v  (Fig.  (1),  if  a  rudder  is  used  — 
is  i)us}icd  to  the  right,  the  boat  will  turn  to  the  left,  and  rirr  versa.     The  science 


juiui^^^^^-'^^JMjmjXLu^jj^ui^ 


c 


SMALL  BOATS:   HOW  TO   JUG    AX  J)   SAIL  THEM. 


209 


Too  muc'li  canvas. 


of  steering  consists  in  knowing  when  to  push  and  how  much  to  push  — very 
simple,  you  see,  in  the  statement,  but  not  always  so  easy  in  practice. 

The  sail  should  be  so  adjusted  in  relation  to  the  rest  of  the  boat  that,  when 
the  sheet  is  hauled  close  in  and  made  fast,  the  boat,  if  left  to  herself,  will  point 
her  head  to  the  wind  like  a  weather-cock,  and  drift  slowly  astern.  If  it  is  found 
that  the  sail  is  so  far  forward  that  she  will  not  do  this,  the  fault  may  be 
remedied  by  stepping  the  mast  farther  aft,  or  by  rigging  a  small  sail  near  the 
stern.  This  is  called  a  "dandy  "  or  "steering-sail,"  and  is  especially  convenient 
in  a  boat  whose  size  or  arrangement  necessitates  sitting  amidships.  It  may  be 
rigged  like  the  mainsail,  and  when  its  sheet  is  once  made  fast  will  ordinarily 
take  care  of  itself  in  tacking. 

Remember  that  if  the  wind  freshens  or  a  squall  strikes  you,  the  position  of 
safety  is  with  the  boat's  head  to  the  wind.  When  in  doubt  what  to  do,  push  the 
helm  down  (toward  the  sail),  and  haid  in  the  slack  of  the  sheet  as  the  boat  comes 
up  into  the  wind.  If  she  is  mo\'ing  astern,  or  will  not  mind  her  lielm,—  and  of 
course  she  will  not  if  she  is  not  moving,— pull  her  head  around  to  the  wind  with 
an  oar,  and  experiment  cautiously  until  you  find  which  way  you  can  make 
her  go. 
14 


210 


BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 


lu  making  a  landing,  always  cak-ulate  to  liave  the  boat's  head  as  near  the 
wind  as  possible  when  she  ceases  to  move.  This,  wliether  you  lower  yonr  sail 
or  not. 

Thus,  if  the  wind  is  off  shore,  as  shown  at  a  (Fig.  8),  land  at  f  or  G  with  the 
bow  toward  the  shore.  If  the  wind  is  from  the  direction  of  B,  land  at  E  with 
the  bow  toward  B,  or  at  F ;  if  at  the  latter,  the  boom  will  swing  away  from  the 
wharf  and  permit  you  to  lie  alongside.  If  the  wind  is  from  d,  reverse  these 
positions.  If  the  wind  comes  from  the  direction  of  c,  land  either  at  f  or  g, 
with  the  bow  pointing  off  shore. 

If  you  have  no  one  to  tell  you  what  to  do,  you  ^vill  have  to  feel  your  way 
slowfy  and  learn  by  experience  ;  but,  if  you  have  nautical  instincts,  you 
wiU  soon  make  your  boat  do  what  you  wish  her  to  do,  as  far  as  she  is  able.  But 
first  learn  to  swim  before  you  fry  to  sail  a  boat. 

Volumes  have  been  wi-itteu  on  the  subject  briefly  treated  in  these  few  pages, 
and  it  is  not  yet  exhausted.  The  hints  here  given  are  safe  ones  to  follow,  and 
will,  it  is  hoped,  be  of  service  to  many  a  young  sailor  in  many  a  corner  of  the 
world. 


^^^^A^^iAJ^^iCi^^^.^..^^- 


HOW  TO  MAKE  A  BOAT. 


By  Frederic  G.  Mather. 


ALMOST  all  boys  Avbo  live  uear  the  water  want  to  own  a  boat,  and  it  very 
often  happens  that  the  only  way  they  can  get  one  is  to  build  it  themselves. 
It  is  very  well  to  do  this,  for,  when  they  have  done  their  work  well,  they  get 
not  only  a  boat,  but  some  excellent  experience  in  mechanical  construction, 
which  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  of  use  to  them. 

The  object  of  this  article  is  to  tell  boys  how,  with  a  good  deal  of  labor  and  a 
very  little  money,  they  can  build  a  boat  for  themselves. 

Any  boy  who  can  use  a  plane,  a  saw,  a  bit-stock,  and  a  drawing-knife,  can 
easily  build  a  boat  like  the  one  of  which  we  are  to  give  the  history  from  the 
time  she  existed  in  the  form  of  boards  until  she  floated  gracefully  in  the  water. 

In  the  first  place,  you  must  go  to  the  lumber-yard  or  mill,  and  select  two  boards 
of  clear  pine,  eleven  or  twelve  feet  long  and  one  inch  thick.  One  should  be 
wider  than  the  other ;  but  together  they  sliould  make  a  width  of  twenty-five 
inches.  Have  them  planed  on  both  sides,  and  a  groove  planed  out  of  the  edge 
of  one  board  and  a  tongue  out 
of  the  corresponding  edge  of  the 
other  board.  When  you  have 
taken  the  boards  home,  buy  a 
two-pound  can  of  white  lead. 
Fill  the  groove  with  this  lead ; 
then  put  the  boards  together, 
and  drive  the  tongue  of  one  into  the  groove  of  the  other.  This  will  make  the 
joint  water-tight.  To  keep  th(^  boards  from  spreading,  tack  three  or  four  strips 
across  the  cra(;k,  and  lay  the  whole  on  the  floor  witli  the  strips  downward. 

You  will  then  have  what  is  the  same  as  one  board,  eleven  or  twelve  feet  long 
and  not  less  than  two  feet  wide.     This  we  will  call  the  bottom  board  (Fig.  1). 


|j..:::::::; 

— i — 

"2:::;::-:: 

^\ 

/        

---" 

.J 

Pif,'. 

£ 
1.— Tlie  hottom 

board. 

212  BOYS'   BOOK    OF  Sl'ORTS. 

Tlie  next  tiling;:  to  do  is  to  sweep  the  floor  of  your  workshop,  so  that  there 
will  be  a  clear  space  of  about  fifteen  feet  square.  Place  the  bottom  board  at 
one  edge  of  the  space  thus  cleared,  and  draw  the  line  a  b,  which  divides  the 
width  into  equal  parts.  Draw  d  e  at  right  angles  to  a  b.  The  points  a  and  b 
should  be  five  feet  three  inches  from  c ;  and  d  and  E,  each  one  foot  from  the 
same.     This  will  make  a  b  ten  feet  six  inches,  and  d  e,  two  feet. 

To  mark  the  curved  line  a  e  B,  drive  a  nail  in  the  floor  in  the  direction  of  d, 
and  about  fourteen  feet  three  inches  from  E.  Having  made  a  loop  at  the  end 
of  a  piece  of  wire  (string  will  stretch  too  much  to  be  accurate),  you  must  bring 
the  wii-e  to  the  point  e.  The  wire  is  your  radius,  and  your  object  is  to  hold  a 
pencil  at  such  a  point  that  it  will  pass  though  the  points  a,  e  and  B.  Your 
pencil  will  easily  hit  a  and  b.  If  it  falls  outside  of  e,  you  must  move  the  board 
away  from  the  nail ;  if  it  falls  between  c  and  e,  the  radius  is  too  long,  and  the 
board  must  be  moved  toward  the  nail.  Having  found  the  exact  spot,  draw  the 
curved  line  a  E  B.  Then  turn  the  board  around,  end  for  end,  and  mark  the  line 
A  D  B  in  the  same  manner.  Now,  saw  carefully  along  the  curved  lines,  and  you 
will  have  cut  out  the  bottom  of  your  boat. 

The  next  step  is  to  bevel  the  edges  just  sawed ;  that  is,  to  cut  the  wood 
away  from  the  under  side  of  the  edge  of  the  bottom  board,  so  that  the  side 
boards  will  easily  be  fitted  to  it. 

At  H  (Fig.  2)  is  an  angle  of  120  degrees.     The  under  edge  must  be  cut  off  at 
this  angle;  but,  as  you  come  toward  the  end,  cut  away  less  and  less  of  the  under 
edge,  until  at  f  you  cut  away  scarcely  any.   Bevel 
the  entire  edge  in  the  same  way,  taking  great  care 
to  change  the  bevel  gradually  and  uniformly. 

You  must  now  fasten  some  hard-wood  strips, 
one  inch  square,  upon  the  bottom.  Lay  one  in 
the  middle  (G  h),  and  three  toward  each  end, 
about  thirteen  inches  apart.  Let  them  be  long 
enough  for  the  ends  to  project  an  inch  over  each 
side.  Drive  an  inch-aud-a-half  screw  through  the 
middle  of  each  strip  into  the  bottom. 

Then  turn  over  the  bottom  board  and  drive 
from  four  to  six  screws  the  other  wav,  as  at  i, 

I'iK.  2.— The  braces  aud  ribs.  .n-  •.  i*i.-  .l 

taking  care  to  drive  screws  into  each  strip  not 
more  than  an  inch  from  the  crack  between  the  boards,  and  not  more  than 
that  distance  from  the  outer  edge. 

You  would  do  well  to  put  these  screws  in  first,  and  afterward  put  in  as  many 
others  as  may  l>e  necessary  to  keep  the  bottom  from  warping.  Use  the  gimlet 
and  countersink,  and  dip  the  screws  into  oil  or  paint  before  driving  them.  The 
lieads  of  all  the  screws,  which  are  drawn  lari;c  in  the  cut  so  as  to  show  distinctly, 
slioiild  be  below  tlie  surface. 


JI()\r  JO    MAKE'  A    BOAT. 


213 


Fig.  3.— The  sides. 


The  ends  of  the  strips,  or  braces  as  we  will  now  call  them,  should  be  sawed  off 
to  corresj)ond  with  the  bevel  of  the  edjje  which  is  just  below  thcni. 

You  will  now  need  fourteen  pieces  of  the  ineh-scpiare  hard-wood.       Tiu-y  are 
for  the  ribs,  and  each  one  should  be  one  foot  long.      Fit  one  of  the  ribs  to  each 
end  of  the  middle  brace,  so  that  the  angles   at  G  and  h  will  be  120  degrees. 
Fasten  the  ribs  to  the  brace  by  an  angle-iron  (h),  which 
any  blacksmith  can  make.     A  temporary  brace  (s)  should 
be  nailed  into  the  ribs,  G  and  h.     A  triangular  piece  (f), 
called  the  ''  dead-wood,"  is  fastened  with  a  block  at  an  angle 
of  120  degrees  with  the  bottom. 

You  must  do  the  same  with  the  other  end  of  the  bottom, 
which  does  not  show  in  Fig.  2.  You  will  then  have  seven 
braces,  two  ribs,  and  two  dead-woods,  all  fastened  to  the 
bottom  of  the  boat. 

The  boards  for  the  sides  should  be  of  half-inch  pine  or 
three-eighths-inch  ash.  They  should  be  of  uniform  thick- 
ness, with  both  sides  smoothly  planed.  The  length,  four- 
teen feet ;  and  the  breadth,  fourteen  inches.  Mark  the  exact 
middle  of  one  of  the  boards,  and  place  that  mark  against 
the  rib  H  (Fig.  3).  Let  the  lower  edge  project  four  inches  beloAV  the  bottom, 
and  fasten  the  side  to  the  rib  with  about  five  screws. 

Now  fasten  the  other  side  to  the  rib  G  in  like  manner.  Tie  a  string  around 
the  ends  at  t,  so  that  they  will  not  spread.  Bring  the  other  ends,  at  f,  as  near 
to  each  other  as  possible,  and  confine  them  with  a  string.  Commence  at  h  to 
fasten  the  side  upon  the  bottom.  Put  in  inch-and-a-quarter  screws,  about  three 
inches  apart.  When  you  have  reached  the  first  brace,  put  the  rib  u  in  place  and 
fasten  it. 

Pass  to  the  other  side,  and  fasten  the  bottom  edge  from  (}  to  v,  and  also  the 
rib  V.     Return  now  to  the  first  side,  and  fasten  from  U  to  W  and  the  rib  w. 

Do  this  alternately  until  you  are 
within  a  foot  of  the  end,  F.  You 
will  then  be  obliged  to  cut  off  the 
ends  of  the  side  boards,  in  order 
to  bring  them  ^^p  to  the  dead- 
wood  at  F. 

This  process  is  shown  more 
plainly  in  Fig.  4.  Your  boat  now  looks  something  like  Fig.  3 ;  and  the  same 
course  is  to  be  followed  as  you  commence  at  G  and  h  and  fasten  toward  the 
end,  T. 

The  edge  of  the  boat  is  rough,  and  the  ribs  project,  as  appears  from  k  to  r  in 
Fig.  4.  Having  marked  o,  nine  inches,  and  z,  eleven  inches,  you  must  trace  a 
gradual  curve  each  way  from  the  middle.     Be  very  careful  about  this,  especially 


and  curved  braces. 


214 


BOYS'   BOOK    OF  SPOETS. 


as  you  saw  through  ribs  aud  all  whik'  following  the  mark.  One  edge  in  Fig.  4 
is  cut  off  ill  this  way.  The  uuder  edge  is  easily  trimmed  so  as  to  be  even  with 
the  lower  surface  of  the  bottom  board. 

The  ribs  nearest  the  ends  should  be  connected  at  the  top  by  the  curved 
braces,  K  and  l.  A  straight  brace  should  extend  from  the  middle  of  the  curved 
brace  to  the  top  of  the  dead-wood.  The  corners  which  were  left  when  you 
sawed  out  the  bottom  will  now  be  of  use.  From  them  you  can  cut  sixteen  tri- 
angular pieces  for  brackets  to  support  the  deck.  Let  these  brackets  be  upon 
each  edge,  seven,  six,  and  five  inches  respectively.  They  are  to  be  fastened  half- 
way between  the  ribs  with  screws  from  the  outside.  The  screws  enter  the  edge 
which  is  six  inches  long,  leaving  the  five-inch  edge  to  receive  the  deck.  Quar- 
ter-inch pine  makes  the  best  deck,  and  the  fewer  pieces  in  the  deck  the  better  it 
^vill  be.  The  greatest  breadth  of  the  boat  across  the  deck  will  vary,  according 
to  the  manner  in  which  you  have  done  the  work.  It  ought  to  be  about  three 
feet  two  inches,  and  the  extreme  length  twelve  feet. 
For  security,  it  is  well  to  fix  a  ring  and  staple  in 
each  end  of  the  deck. 

Benches  or  stools  make  good  seats,  but  these  you 
can  arrange  according  to  your  fancy.  A  false  bot- 
tom of  slats  will  help  to  preserve  the  true  bottom. 
You  can  fit  a  rudder  to  either  end,  if  you  choose. 

A  paddle  can  be  used  to  good  effect  in  propelling 
such  a  boat  as  this,  but  oars  are  better.  For  oar- 
locks you  can  have  simple  pegs  set  in  a  block,  which 
is  firmly  screwed  to  the  edge  of  the  deck ;  or  you 
can  buy  iron  oar-locks  which  fit  into  a  hole  in  a 
block  which  is  fastened  as  above  ;  or  you  can  have 
iron  arrangements  like  Fig.  5  made  at  the  blacksmith's.  There  may  be  two  of 
these,  each  made  of  inch  horseshoe  iron.  They  pass  through  plates  of  one- 
eiglith-inch  iron,  screwed  into  the  deck  and  into  the  bottom,  and  are  eighteen 
aud  a  ludf  inches  long.  They  are  straight  for  thirteen  inches  of  this  length,  and 
are  finished  with  a  thimble  in  which  the  pin  of  the  iron  oar-lock  can  play. 

All  the  carpenter-work  of  the  boat  is  now  completed,  and  you  must  turn 
your  attention  to  the  painting.  After  the  first  coat,  or  priming,  paint  two  other 
coats  of  whatever  color  you  wish.  Upon  your  choice  of  a  color  for  the  body 
will  depend  the  color  for  the  trimmings.  If  your  own  taste  is  not  reliable,  per- 
haps your  friends  will  advise  you  how  to  paint. 

At  length,  having  followed  these  directions,  you  will  have  the  satisfaction  of 
launching  your  craft ;  and  if  it  be  carefully  constructed,  it  will  prove  to  be  a 
very  safe  and  a  very  useful  boat,  and  not  least  among  the  pleasures  you  will 
experience  will  be  that  of  having  made  it  all  yourself. 


Iron  support  for  oar-lock. 


HOW  TO  BUILD  A  CATAMARAN, 


By  W.  L.  Alden. 


EVERY  boy  knows  liow  bard  it  is  to  get  permission  to  go  sailing.  His 
mother  is  sure  lie  will  be  drowned,  and  his  father  tells  him  to  be  ^^care- 
fiil "  in  a  way  that  clearly  shows  his  wish  that  sail-boats  had  never  been  in- 
vented. And  though  the  boy  himself  says,  ''  There  is  no  danger,"  he  knows,  if 
he  is  familiar  with  sailing,  that  there  is  nothing  easier  than  to  capsize  a  cat-boat 
by  a  moment's  carelessness  or  a  little  recklessness. 

Now,  if  a  boy  had  a  boat  which  could  neither  capsize  nor  sink,  no  reasonable 
mother  would  feel  any  uneasiness  as  to  his  being  drowned.  If  at  the  same  time 
this  boat  could  outsail  any  ordinary  sail-})oat ;  could  carry  twice  as  many  people 
as  a  cat-boat  of  the  same  length  ;  could  be  taken  out  of  the  water  and  carried 
over  a  reef  or  a  dam  by  two  boys ;  and  could  be  built  by  any  intelligent  boy  who 
is  handy  with  his  tools,  at  a  very  slight  expense,  would  it  not  be  just  the  thing 
that  every  boy  ought  to  have ! 

The  boat  in  question  is  what  is  called  a  catamaran  —  that  is,  a  boat  with  two 
hulls.  It  is  not  so  fast  as  the  wonderful  Herreschoff  catamaran,  but  it  is  a  great 
deal  cheaper,  drier,  and  more  roomy,  and  is  in  every  way  better  suited  for 
cruising.  Moreover,  a  boy  can  have  the  pleasure  of  building  it  himself,  and 
there  is  no  better  fun  than  ])uilding  a  boat  which,  when  it  is  launclied,  answers 
all  your  expectations. 

The  first  thing  you  need  to  do  is  to  send  to  a  lumber-yard  or  saw-mill  for  four 
good  pine  planks,  fifteen  feet  long,  eighteen  inches  wide,  one  inch  thick,  and 


216 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


I>laued  on  both  sides.  It  may  be  necessary  to  have  them  sawed  to  order  at  the 
mill,  as  they  are  uuusually  large.  The  rest  of  the  lumber  that  you  will  want 
can  be  had  at  any  carpenter's  shop,  and  a  good  deal  of  it  you  may  be  able  to  find 
at  home  in  the  shape  of  old  boxes  and  strips  of  wood. 

Put  two  of  the  four  planks  aside,  and  busy  yourself  at  first  only  with  the 
other  two.    Planks  of  this  size,  if  put  in  the  water, 
would  be  sure  to  warp.     To  prevent  this,  screw 
across  one  side  of  each  plank  four  strips  of  wood, 
about  three  inches  wide  by  three-quar- 
ters of  an  inch  thick.     These  should 


\^:s^        be  placed  regularly,  so  as  to  divide  each 

plank  into  five  divisions  of  exactly  the 

same  size.     Be  sure  that  on  one  of  the 

two    planks    these    strips   are   seventeen 

inches  long  instead  of 

eighteen,  thus  leaving 

a  clear   space  an  inch 

wide   along    one   edge 

of  the  plank. 

The  next  thing  is  to 
shape  the  ends  of  the 
planks.  Begin  three 
feet  from  the  end,  and 
cut  away  the  wood,  first 
with  a  saw  and  then 
with  a  drawing-knife, 
until  you  have  a  nice 
curve  extending  from 
the  point  where  you 
began  to  cut  to  the  end  of  the  plank.  When  you  arc  satisfied  with  this  curve 
(which  is  to  be  the  bow  of  your  boat),  lay  the  plank  down  on  the  other  uncut 
l)laiik  and  mark  out  on  it  precisely  the  same  curve.  As  you  proceed,  study  care- 
fully the  (lilf«'rent  figures  (I  to  6)  in  the  diagram  presented  above,  as  they  in- 
clude the  various  rccjuisites  in  the  hulls  of  your  catamaran.  After  the  planks  on 
which  you  have  fashioned  the  bows  <)f  your  l)oat  have  been  cut,  take  the  other  end 
of  tlie  two  planks,  shape  tlicm  in  the  same  way,  taking  great  care  that  each  one 


' "-^"^SiW^^I 


Diagram  of  a  catainaran 


HOW  TO   UrilJ)    A     C  ATA  MA  HAN. 


217 


of  the  four  curves  sliall  ln'  i)rt'cis('ly  like  every  other  one.  Tlic  way  they  wilUook 
after  this  part  of  the  work  is  done  is  shown  in  Fig.  No.  1. 

Now  lay  one  pLink  flat  on  the  floor,  with  the  side  on  wliicli  tlie  stri^js  are 
fastened  u})})erinost.      Take  tlic  otlici-  pL-iuk  —  ilie  one  with  the  seventeen-inch 


I'Af-^f,lKn 


A  safe  craft. 

strips  —  and  stand  it  up  on  its  edge  ch)se  against  the  one  on  the  floor,  having 
first  white4eaded  both  the  edges  that  are  to  toueh.     (See  Fig.  2.) 

You  will  now  see  why  the  strips  on  one  plank  were  shorter  than  the  other 
strips,  for  this  has  enabled  you  to  bring  the  edges  of  the  i)lanks  close  togethei'. 
Nail  these  edges  together  with  galvanized  iron  nails,  using  a  good  many  of 
them,  and  taking  great  care  not  to  split  the  wood. 

The  next  thing  is  to  cut  four  pieces  of  three-cpuirter-indi  })lank  into  the  shai)e 
diagrammed  in  Fig.  8. 


218 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SBOliTS. 


The  side  a  b  is  seventeen  inelies  lon^,  and  tlie  side  a  c  eighteen  inches.  These 
sides  must  form  a  true  ri«i:lit  angle,  and  be  made  very  smooth  and  straight. 
When  the  four  pieces  are  finished,  white-lead  the  edges  and  place  them  between 
the  two  planks,  so  that  they  will  lie  close  to  the  strips  which  you  secured  to  the 
planks  to  prevent  them  from  warping.  Fasten  them  with  long  galvanized 
screws,  carefully  countersinking  the  heads.  Then  run  a  strip  of  quarter-inch 
white  cedar,  two  inches  wide,  from  A  to  b,  cutting  mortises  in  the  curved  edge 
of  the  four  triangular  i^ieces  of  wood  to  secure  it.     (Bee  Fig.  No.  4.) 

You  have  now  the  frame-work  of  one  of  the  hulls  of  your  catamaran.  While 
the  chief  object  of  the  triangular  pieces  of  wood  is  to  brace  the  two  planks,  they 
are  also  meant  to  divide  the  hull  into  water-tight  compartments,  and  so  you  can 
not  be  too  careful  to  make  the  joints  water-tight. 

Now  we  need  some  iron-work,  and  must  depend  on  the  blacksmith  to  make  it 
for  us.     We  want  three  iron  sockets  (for,  since  they  will  be  used  as  sockets,  we 

might  as  well  call  them  sockets)  of 
the  shape  indicated  in  Fig.  5,  made 
out  of  iron,  rather  more  than  an 
eighth  of  an  inch  thick. 

From  A  to  B  is  four  inches,  and 
from  A  to  c  the  same.  The  iron 
should  be  an  inch  and  a  half  wide, 
and  the  two  holes,  H  and  h,  should 
be  large  enough  for  a  quarter-inch 
bolt. 

When  the  blacksmith  has  made 
these,  then  have  him  make  three 
other  sockets  out  of  half-inch  rod- 
iron,  hammering  the  ends  flat  and 
piercing  them  with  holes  counter- 
sunk for  screws.     (See  Fig.  6.) 

This  round-iron  socket  is  four 
inches    wide,    and    each    arm   ten 


Fig.  7. 


Fig.  8. 


inches  long.  The  holes  (h)  are  for  quarter-inch  bolts.  Order  a  double  set  of 
each  of  these  sockets,  as  you  will  need  three  of  each  kind  for  each  hull.  The 
flat  sockets  are  to  be  placed  on  the  upper  side  of  your  hull  —  the  side  which  is 
eighteen  inches  wide,  the  other  side  being  an  inch  narrower.  One  is  to  be  placed 
exactly  half-way  between  the  two  ends  of  the  plank,  and  the  others  exactly  three 
feet  each  from  either  end,  and  they  should  all  be  placed  about  three  inches  from 
the  outer  edge  of  the  ])lanks.  These  positions  are  indicated  in  diagrams  7  and  8, 
given  al)ove. 

The  other  sockets  an;  to  be  jtlaced  in  the  oilier  ]ilinik  ^trccisely  on  ;>  line  with 
tli<'  first  three.     Use  screw-bolts,  with  nuts  foi-  fastening  nil  the  sockets,  and  put 


now   TO    lillLl)   A    CA'/'AMAJLiy.  219 

a  thin  leather  washer  under  tlu-  pai-t  of  tlu;  iron,  llii-ough  wliicli  llie  bolt  i)asses, 
and  an  oak  washer  nuder  the  nut  oji  the  other  side.  Serew  them  on  as  tightly 
as  possible,  and  put  plenty  of  white  lead  on  the  under  side.  The  iron  and 
the  bolts  ought  to  be  galvanized,  but  if  you  live  in  the  eountry,  you  nuiy  not 
be.  able  to  have  this  done. 

Your  hidl  is  now  nearly  ready  to  be  covered  with  canvas,  but  first  you  should 
give  the  inside  a  thick  coat  of  paint,  and  bore  an  inch  hole  through  the  middle 
of  the  upper  ])lank  into  each  water-tight  compartment.  Plug  the  holes  with 
corks,  and  should  your  hull  spring  a  leak  at  anytime,  it  will  always  be  possible 
for  you  to  pump  or  empty  out  the  water.  The  canvas  should  be  well  oiled  and 
dried  before  it  is  used,  and  should  be  forty  inches  wide.  Place  the  keel  —  or 
the  part  of  the  hull  where  the  keel  ought  to  be  —  in  the  middle  of  the  canvas, 
and  tack  it  with  copper  tacks  to  the  lower  edge  of  the  plank,  except  on  the  two 
ends  where  the  plank  is  curved.  Then  bring  the  edges  of  the  canvas  around 
both  sides  of  the  hull  to  the  upper  plank,  and  tack  them  firml3\  To  fit  the 
canvas  to  the  curves  at  the  bow  and  stern  is  a  more  difficult  task,  but  it  can  be 
done  with  the  exercise  of  care  and  judgment.  Perhai)s  your  mother  could  help 
you  in  this  matter  with  her  womanly  ingenuity  in  handling  cloth.  Remember 
when  you  are  putting  on  the  canvas  to  strain  it  as  tightly  as  possible. 

Along  the  lower  edge  of  the  side  plank  you  must  fasten  an  oak  or  ash  keel  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  putting  it  on  with  screws,  and  painting  the  canvas 
under  it  just  before  you  put  it  on.  By  soaking  it  in  hot  water  —  or,  what  is 
better,  steaming  it  —  you  can  bend  it  to  fit  the  bow  and  stern.  Strips  an  eighth 
of  an  inch  thick  should  be  screwed  to  the  outer  edges  of  each  of  the  triangular 
pieces  of  wood  that  form  tho  water-tight  compartments,  thus  making  the  canvas 
fit  more  closely  to  them  t'aan  it  would  were  it  fastened  only  with  tacks.  After 
all  is  done,  give  the  mtire  hull  two  heavy  coats  of  paint,  and  you  can  feel 
reasonably  confident  chat  it  will  not  leak. 

One  hull  is  now  finished,  and  the  second,  which  is  to  be  precisely  like  it  in 
every  respect,  can  be  l)uilt  in  much  less  time  than  the  first  one,  thanks  to  the 
experience  you  Lave  gained.  When  they  are  all  ready,  place  them  with  their 
flat  sides  towar'i  one  another  and  seven  feet  apart.  Then  take  three  pine  joists 
four  inches  square  and  nine  feet  long,  and  push  them  through  the  iron  sockets, 
fastening  thejn  with  iron  pins,  dropped  (not  driven)  through  the  holes  in  the 
middle  of  th<  flat  sockets.  In  the  drawing  of  the  socket  (Fig.  5),  the  hole  for 
the  pin  is  m. irked  p.  These  pins  will  prevent  the  joists  from  slipping  in  either 
direction. 

The  catamaran  is  now  ready  for  her  deck.  This  is  simply  a  platform,  nine 
feet  squarS,  made  of  planks  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick  and  six  inches  wide.  It 
is  to  be  made  double,  the  upper  layer  of  planks  running  fore  and  aft,  the 
under  layer  running  at  right  angles  to  the  upper.  Fasten  them  firmly  together 
with  clinched  copper  nails,  and  finally  nail  a  quarter-inch  strip  of  oak  all  around 


220  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

tho  platform,  so  as  to  keep  the  water  from  the  edges  of  the  phinks.  Every  seam 
ou  both  sides  must  be  carefully  filled  with  white  lead. 

The  de(.'k  is  to  be  fastened  to  the  joists  or  deck-beams  with  screw-bolts,  and 
gi'ooves  must  be  cut  in  it  to  receive  the  upper  part  of  the  iron  sockets,  so  that  it 
will  lie  flat  on  the  deck-beams.  Fom-  good-sized  bolts  will  hold  it  firmly.  An 
iron  ring  of  the  same  thickness  as  the  iron  used  for  the  flat  sockets,  and  sup- 
l)orted  by  three  iron  legs  in  the  shape  of  a  tripod  about  eighteen  or  twenty 
inches  long,  two  of  which  should  be  bolted  (with  screw-bolts)  to  the  forward 
deck-beam,  and  the  third  to  the  deck  itself,  will  support  the  mast,  the  foot  of 
which  will  rest  in  a  wooden  step.  A  somewhat  similar  piece  of  iron-work,  with 
a  row-lock  in  place  of  the  ring,  must  be  bolted  to  the  aftermost  deck-beam,  to 
hold  the  oar  with  which  the  boat  is  to  be  steered,  and  also  to  enable  you  to  scull 
her  in  case  you  are  becalmed. 

Before  rigging  the  boat,  take  an  ordinary  eight-foot  ''a"  tent  and  pitch  it 
on  the  deck,  fastening  the  corners  and  the  sides  to  little  brass  rings  screwed 
into  the  deck  —  the  kind  that  will  lie  down  flat  when  not  in  use.  Inside  of 
the  tent,  and  just  where  the  four  ends  are  fastened,  nail  narrow  strips  of  wood, 
a  (juarter  of  an  inch  thick,  to  the  deck.  These  will  keep  the  water  out  when 
it  rains. 

Now,  take  away  your  tent  and  rig  your  boat.  The  sail  should  be  fifteen  feet 
in  the  boom,  nine  feet  in  the  gaff,  fifteen  feet  in  the  luff, —  or  the  edge  nearest 
the  mast, —  and  nineteen  feet  in  the  leech.  .  You  had  better  get  a  sail-maker  to 
make  the  sail,  which  is  the  only  part  of  the  work  which  you  can  not  do  well 
yourself.  Put  a  big  ring-bolt  in  the  forward  deck-beam  to  make  yoiu*  cable 
fast  to  when  you  anchor,  and  also  to  hold  your  painter  when  you  want  to  make 
the  boat  fast  to  the  dock.  Put  a  long  oar  on  board 'to  steer  with,  and  you  are 
now  ready  to  set  sail.  v 

It  would  be  a  good  plan  to  put  a  little  railing,  if  it  w.'ire  only  an  inch  high, 
around  the  deck,  so  as  to  keep  things  from  sliding  overboard.  This  will  also 
serve  as  a  rail  or  gunwale  for  the  greater  peace  of  mind  of  timid  voyagers, 
although  the  catamaran  by  its  very  construction  is  the  most  enjoyable  way  of 
introducing  those  afraid  of  the  water  to  the  pleasures  of  boatiug.  All  iron-work 
tliat  is  not  galvanized  should  be  thoroughly  painted,  and  whenever  a  screw  is 
used  it  should  be  dipped  in  white  lead,  and  its  head  covered  with  the  same 
material  after  it  is  driven  home. 

You  will  find  that  it  is  impossible  to  capsize  your  catamaran.  'The  mast  and 
sail  would  be  torn  out  by  the  wind  long  before  it  would  blow  hard  enough  to 
bury  one  hull  and  lift  the  other  out  of  water.  The  boat  will  sail  fast  either 
before  or  on  the  wind,  and,  with  the  help  of  the  steering  oar,  will  \tack  easily. 
Of  course,  if  you  run  on  the  rocks,  yon  will  knock  a  liolc  in  the  .'^anvas,  but 
such  an  injury  can  be  easily  repaired,  uud  the  deck  will  lloat,  even  were  both 
hulls  full  of  Avat.-r. 


IIOM'  TO    BUILD  A    CATAMAliAX.  221 

There  is  no  better  boat  to  eniise  in  tliau  such  a  catamaran.  At  niglit  you 
anchor  her,  unship  your  mast,  pitch  your  tent,  and  sleep  safely  and  comfortably. 
If  you  come  to  a  dam,  you  can  take  the  craft  apart  and  carry  her  around  it 
piecemeal.  If  you  once  try  to  build  a  catamaran,  and  succeed, —  as  you  cer- 
tainly will,  if  you  have  patience, —  you  will  have  the  safest  and  most  comfortable 
sail-boat  in  the  world. 


lor  a  c-;itaiiuiruu. 


^^^scm.^ 


t     'l<. 


On  the  St.  John's  River,  Florida. 


FLAT-BOATING  FOR  BOYS 


By  Daniel  C.  Beard. 


FLAT-BOATS  are  esseutially  inland  craft,  having  their  origin  with  the  birth 
of  trade  in  the  West  before  the  pnffing  and  panting  steam-boats  plowed  their 
way  through  the  turbid  waters  of  Western  rivers.  They  are  craft  that  can  be 
used  on  any  stream  large  enough  to  float  a  yawl,  l)ut  the  St.  John's  River,  Florida, 
is,  perhaps,  the  most  tempting  stream  for  the  amateur  flat-boatman.  The 
numerous  inlets  and  lakes  connected  with  the  river,  the  luxuriant  semi-tropical 
foliage  on  the  banks,  the  strange-looking  fish,  and  gi-eat,  stujnd  alligators,  the 
beautiful  white  herons,  and  hundreds  of  water-fowl  of  many  descriptions, —  all 
form  features  that  add  interest  to  its  navigation,  and  inducements  to  hunters, 
fishermen,  naturalists,  and  pleasure-seekers  scarcely  equaled  by  any  other  acces- 
sible river  of  the  United  States. 

To  build  the  hull  of  the  flat-boat,  use  good  pine  lumber.  For  the  sides,  select 
two  good  straight  two-inch  i)lanks,  fourteen  feet  long  and  about  sixteen  inches 
wide.  Take  one  of  the  planks  (Fig.  1),  measure  six  inches  from  the  top  upon 
each  end,  and  mark  the;  points  (a  a,  Fig.  1);  then  upon  the  bottom  measure  from 
each  end  toward  the  center  two  feet,  and  mark  the  points  (b  b.  Fig.  1).  With 
your  carpenter's  lead-pencil,  connect  the  points  a  b  and  a  1),  l)y  a  slight  but 
regular  curve ;  saw  off  the  corners  along  the  line  thus  made.  Make  the  other 
side  of  your  hull  an  exact  duplicate  of  this. 

Then  take  two  two-inch  planks,  six  inches  wide  and  six  feet  l<)ng,for  the  stem  and 
stern  ;  set  the  side-pieces  on  edge,  upside  down,  and  nail  on  the  two  end-pieces 
(Fig.  2).     Then,  allowing  four  inches  as  the  thickness  of  the  two  sides,  there 


FLAT-BOATING  FOR  BOYS. 


223 


/4P 


^R 


V«?2. 


«f. 


Diagrams  of  the  hull. 


will  be  a  space  inside  the  l)oat  of  five  feet  eight  inclics.  Take  three  pieces  of 
scantling,  about  tliree  inches  square  and  five  feet  eight  inches  long ;  place  one 
near  each  end,  flush  with  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  just  where  the  sheer  of  bow 

and  stern  l)egins.  (See  Fig.  2,  a 
and.  B.)  After  fitting  them  care- 
fully, nail  *  them  firmly.  Take  the 
other  piece  of  scantling  and  nail  it 
in  place  at  the  point  C  (Fig.  2),  so 
that  it  will  measure  six  feet  from 
tlie  outside  of  th(;  brace;  at  A  to  the 
outside  of  the  brace  at  c. 

For  the  bottom  boards,  pick  out 
good,  straight  half-inch  lumber, 
a  little  over  fourteen  feet  long,  to 
allow  for  the  curve.  Take  one  of 
the  bottom  boards  and  nail  an  end 
to  the  stern  board  (Fig.  3) ;  its  side 
edge  must  be  flush  with  the  outer 
face  of  the  side-piece.  Bend  the 
board  carefully  along  the  curve  to 
the  first  cross-piece  A,  and  nail  it  firmly ;  nail  it  again  at  C,  and  at  the  bow. 
Follow  the  same  plan  with  the  next  board,  being  careful  to  keep  it  close  up 
against  the  first  board,  so  as  to  leave  no  crack  when  the  bottom 
is  finished.  Calk  up  an  accidental  crack  with  oakum;  give  the 
whole  a  coating  of  coal-tar,  and  let  it  dry. 

The  remainder  of  the  work  is  comparatively  easy.     After  the 
coal-tar  has  dried,  turn  the  boat  over,  and  erect  four  posts,  one  at 
each  end  of  the  cross-piece  a,  and  one  at  each  end  of  the  cross 
piece  c  (Figs.  2  and  3).     The  tops 
of  the  posts  should  be  about  five 
feet  above  the  bottom  of  the  hull. 
Put  a  cross-piece  on 
postA,  and  an- 
other ate,  and 
the       frame- 
work of  your 
cabin  is  done. 
Make  the  roof 

„,,.        ,      ,  Piff.  4.— Side  view  of  flat-boat, -with  cabin, 

of  thm  plank,  ^ 

bending  it  in  an  arch,  so  that  the  middle  will  rise  about  one  foot  higher  than 

the  sides.  The  eaves  should  overhang  about  six  inches  beyond  the  cabin,  upon 

each  side.     Board  up  the  sides  with  material  like  that  used  for  the  roof,  leaving 

*  Screws  are  even  better  than  nails,  as  they  hold  better  and  do  not  crack  the  v^ood.— Editor. 


224 


BOYS'   HOOK    OF  SPORTS. 


openings  for  windows  and  doors.     Pieces  of  leather  make  very  good  hinges  for 

the  door,  if  there  is  no  hardware  store  handy  wliere  iron  hinges  can  be  pro- 
cured. The  cabin  can  then  be  floored,  a  bunk  or  two  may  be  built,  and  as  many 

other  conveniences  as  your  taste  or  necessities  indicate  may  be  provided, —  a 

book-shelf,  a  few  clothes-hooks,  etc. 

Put  in  oar-locks,  each  made  of  a  board  with  a  deep  notch  cut  in  it ;  there 

should  be  tliree  oar-locks— one  for  the  steering  oar  and  two  in  front  for  rowing 
,  (Fig.  4).     Set  a  seat  in  front  of  the  oar-locks,  with  a 

hole  for  a  jack-staff  to  pass  through.  The  jack-staff 
must  be  made  so  that  it  can  be  taken  out  or  put  in 
at  pleasure,  by  having  a  simple  socket  underneath 
the  seat,  for  the  foot  of  the  staff  to  fit  in.  When  this 
is  done,  your  boat  is  ready  for  use.  Fig.  4  shows  a 
side  view  of  a  fourteen-foot  flat-boat,  with  a  cabin 
five  feet  high  at  the  sides  and  six  feet  at  the  middle. 
Fig.  5  shows  a  front  view  of  the  same.  Fig.  6  shows 
a  top  view  of  the  flat-boat  as  it  would  appear  looking 
down  upon  the  roof  of  the  cabin. 

The  large  diagram  (Fig.  7),  drawn  in  perspective, 
shows  the  interior  of  a  plain  cabin,  with  a  floor  six 
feet  square,  walls  five  feet  high,  and  six  feet  between 
the  floor  and  the  ridge-pole,  at  the  middle  of  the  roof. 
The  walls  need  not  be  more  than  four  feet  high,  giv- 
ing five  feet  between  floor  and  ridge-pole. 
A  cabin  six  feet  high  may  be  fitted  up  with  four  folding  berths.     Tliese  are 

boards  two  feet  wide,  fastened  to  the  wall  by  strong  iron  or  leather  hinges,  so 

that  they  can  be 

let  down.     The 

top      flap       is 

supported      by 

straps,  and  the 

bottom  one  by 

folding       legs. 

The       diagram 

shows  two 

berths        down 

upon    the   left- 


Fig.  5. —  Front  end  view  of 
flat-boat,  with  cabin. 


II 


Fifj.  r>. — Top  view  of  flat-boat,  with  cabin. 

hand  side,  and  two  folded  up  at  the  right-hand  side.     The  lockers  set  under  the 
bottom  berths  can  be  used  for  stowing  away  bed-clothing. 

I  shall  not  describe  the  construction  of  the  interior  of  the  cabin,  my  aim  Tx'ing 
only  to  suggest  how  it  may  be  done,  as  every  boy  who  is  smixi't  enough  to  l)uild 
a  flat-boat  will  have  his  own  poeuliar  ideas  about  the  manner  in  Avhidi  it  should 


FLAT- BOATING   FOE  BOYS. 


225 


Fl;it-bo:UiiiK  in  Floridii 


be  fitted  up  inside.  The  interior  construction  depends,  in  a  measure,  upon  tlie 
number  of  persons  who  are  to  occupy  the  cabin,  and  whether  it  is  to  be  used 
by  a  party  of  young  naturalists  upon  a  collecting:  tour,  or  for  fishing  and 
shooting  excursions,  or  simply  as  a  sort  of  picnic  boat  for  a  few  days'  enjoy- 
ment, such  as  most  boys  in  the  country  are  quite  well  able  to  plan  and  carry 
out  unaided. 

The  picture  entitled  ''  Who  knocks ! "  on  page  227,  shows  the  interior  of 
the  cabin  of  a  boat  in  which  the  only  occupant  is  the  dog  left  to  guard  the 
premises  while  the  flat-boatmen  are  ashore. 

Although  this  rude  home-made  flat-boat  docs  not  possess  speed,  yet,  with  a 
square  sail  rigged  on  the  jack-staif,  and  with  a  good  wind  over  the  stern,  it  can 
get  through  the  water  pretty  well ;  and  as  this  sort  of  craft  draws  only  a  few 
inches  of  water,  it  can  float  in  creeks  and  inlets  where  a  well-loaded  row-boat 
would  drag  bottom. 

The  time  and  expense  given  to  the  l)uilding()f  a  flat-boat,  under  favorable  con- 
ditions, amount  to  little;  but  should  you,  upon  calculation,  find  the  expense  too 
great,  or  your  time  limited,  you  can,  with  little  work  and  no  expense,  bnild  a 
substitute,  which  we  will  christen  the  "  Crusoe  raft." 
15 


226 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


Fig.  7. 


.  oj  S..lr 

Interior  of  cabin. 


All  that  is  necessary  for  the  construction  of  this  craft  is  an  ax,  an  auger,  and  a 
liatchet,  with  some  good  stout  boys  to  wield  tlieni. 

For  a  large  raft,  collect  six  or  seven  logs,  not  more  than  ten  inches  in  diameter ; 
they  must  he  tolerably  straight  and  of  nearly  the  same  size.  Pick  out  the 
longest  and  biggest  for  the  center;  sharpen  one  end;  roll  the  log  into  the 
water,  and  there  secure  it.  Pick  out  two  logs  as  nearly  alike  as  possible,  to  lie 
one  at  each  side  of  the  center-log.  Measure  the  center-log,  and  make  the  ])oint 
of  each  side-log,  not  at  its  own  center,  but  at  that  side  of  it  which  will  lie  against 
tlie  middle-log,  so  that  this  side  ])()int  shall  reach  to  Avhere  the  })()inting  of  the 
middle-log  begins  (Fig.  H). 

After  all  the  logs  needed  have  been  trimmed  and  made  ready  to  be  fitted,  roll 
them  into  the  water  and  arrange  them  in  oi-der.  Fasten  them  together  by  cross- 
strips,  boring  holes  through  tlie  strips  to  correspond  with  holes  bored  into  the 
logs  lying  beneath,  Throngli  thes(^  holes  di'ive  sti'ong  and  close-fitting  wooden 
pegs.  The  water  will  cause  the  l»egs  to  swell,  and  they  will  hold  luucli  more 
firndy  than  iron  nails. 

The  skeleton  of  the  e;il>in  is  made  of  saplings ;  such  as  are  used  foi- lioop-])oles 
are  the  liest.    These  are  lieiit  in  an  at-ch,  ;ind  the  t'luls  ai'c  tlirusi  into  holes  bored 


FLAT- BOATING   FOB  BOYS. 


227 


for  the  purpose  (Fig.  9).  Over  tins  lu)opiiig  a  piece  of  canvas  is  strct(!li('(l, 
after  the  manner  of  the  tops  of  old-fashioned  country  wagons. 

Erect  a  jack-staff,  to  be  used  for  a  square  sail  or  a  flag,  and  with  the  addition  of 
some  sticks,  whittled  off  at  the  ends,  for  oar-locks, your  "Crusoe  raft"  is  com- 
plete (Fig.  10). 

For  oars,  use  sweeps  — h)ng  poles,  cacli  with  a  piece  of  board  for  a  l)lade, 
fastened  to  one  end.  A  hole  must  be  bored  through  tl.'e  pole,  about  three  feet 
from  the  handle,  to  slip  over  the  peg  used  as  oar-lock  ;  this  peg  should  be  high 
enough  to  allow  you  to  stand  while  using  the  sweeps. 

A  flat  stone  placed  at  the  bow  will  serve  for  a  fire-place.  If,  now,  the  cal)in 
is  floored  with  cross-sticks,  and  all  the  cracks  are  stopped  up  to  pi-event  the  water 
splashing  through,  and  if  a  lot  of  hay  is  piled  in,  you  will  have  a  most  com- 
fortable bed  at  night. 

The  "Crnsoo  raft"  has  one  great  advantage  over  all  boats.  You  can  take  a  long 
trip  down  a  river  on  it,  allowing  the  current  to  bear  you  along;  then,  after  yoin- 
trip  is  finished,  you  can  abandon  the  raft  and  return  by  steam-boat  or  cars. 

I  remember  visiting  a  lake  at  the  head- water  of  the  Miami.  High  and  precijii- 
tous  cliffs  surrounded  the  little  body  of  water.    So  steep  were  the  great,  weather- 


^  ^S^' 


'Who  knocks  ]" 


228 


nOYS"  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


beaten  rocks  that  it  was  only  wliere  the  stream  came  tuml)liug  down,  past  an 
old  mill,  that  an  accessible  path  could  be  found.  Down  tliat  i)ath  I  climbed, 
accompanied  by  my  cousin ;  for,  we  knew  that  l»ass  lurked  in  the  deep,  black 
holes  anions:  the  rocks.     We  had  no  jointed  rods  n(n'  fancy  tackle  ;  but  the  fish 

there  were  not  particular,  and  sel- 
dom hesitated  to  bite  at  a  bait 
suspended  by  a  coarse  line  from  a 
freshly  cut  hickory  sapliny^. 

Even  now,  I  feel  the  thrill  of 
excitement  and  expectancy  as, 
in  imao-ination,  my  pole  is  bent 
nearly  double  by  the  frantic  strug- 
grles  of  those  '*  gamy  "  black  bass. 
After  spending  the  morning  fish- 
ing, wo  built  a  fire  upon  a  short 
hing  them  in  the  spring  close 


Float  of  ' '  Crusoe 


stretch  of  sandy  beach,  cleaned  our  fish  l)y  w 

at  hand,  and  then  placed  them  among  the  embers  to  cook. 

While  the  fire  was  getting  our  dinner  ready  for  us,  we  threw  off  our  clothes 
and  plunged  into  the  cool  waters  of  the  lake.  Inexpert  swimmers  as  we  were  at 
that  time,  the  opposite  shore,  though  apparently  only  a  stone's-throw  distant,  was 
too  far  off  for  us  to  reach  by  swimming.  Many  a  longing  and  curious  glance 
we  cast  toward  it,  however,  and  strong  was  the  temptation  that  beset  us  to 
brave  the  depths  that  intervened;  A  pair  of  brown  ears  appeared  above  the 
ferns  near  the  water's  edge,  and  a  fox  peeped  at  us ;  squirrels  ran  about  the 
fallen  trunks  of  trees  or  scampered  up  the  rocks,  as  saucily  as  though  they 
understood  that  we  could  not  swim  well  enough  to  reach  their  side  of  the  lake; 
and  high  up  the  face  of  the  cliff 
was  a  dark  spot,  which  we  almost 
knew  was  the  entrance  to  some 
mysterious  cavern. 

How  we  longed  for  a  boat !  But 
not  even  a  raft  nor  a  dug-out 
could  be  seen  anywhei-e  upon  tlie 
glassy  surface  of  the  water,  or 
ah)ng  its  reedy  border.  We  never- 
theless determined  to  explore  the 
lake  next  day,  even  if  we  should 
have  to  paddle  astride  of  a  log. 

The  first  rays  of  the  morning  sun  liad  not  reached  tlie  dnrk  waters  before  my 
companion  and  I  were  hard  at  woj-k,  witli  ax  and  hatchet,  chopping  in  two  a  long 
log  we  liad  discoviM-ed  neai-  tlic  mill.    We  had  at  first  intended  to  build  a  raft; 

pieces  of   log  we 


Fig.  9.— "Crusi 


keleton  cabin. 


but 


<-vo]\r(|    a   .s,,i(    ,,r  caianiarau.       The   t\V( 


FLAT-JU)ATI\(i    FOR   BOYS. 


229 


sliJirpcncd  at  tlu'  ends  for  tlie  1)()W ;  then  we  rolled  the  lo^s  down  upon  tlic 
beaeh,  and,  while  I  went  into  the  thicket  to  chop  down  some  saplings,  my  com- 
panion borrowed  an  aiiger.  We  next  placed  the  logs  abont  three  feet  apart,  and, 
marking  the  points  where  we  intended  to  put  the  cross-pieces,  we  cut  notches 
there ;  then  we  placed  the  saplings  across,  fitting  them  into  these  notches.  Tf) 
hold  them  securely,  w^e  bored  holes  down  through  the  sapling  cross-pieces  into 
the  logs ;  then,  with  the  hatchet  w^e  hammered  wooden  pegs  into  these  holes. 
For  the  seat,  we  used  the  half  of  a  section  of  log,  the  flat  side  fitting  into 
places  cut  for  that  purpose.  All  that  remained  to  be  done  now  was  to  make  a 
seat  in  the  stern  and  a  pair  of  oar-locks.  At  a  proper  distance  from  the  oars- 
man's seat  we  bored  two  holes,  for  a  couple  of  forked  sticks,  which  answered 
admirably  for  oar -locks;  across  the  stern  we  fastened  another  piece  of  log, 
similar  to  that  used  for  the  oarsman's  seat.  Witli  the  help  of  a  man  from  the 
mill,  our  craft  was  launched ;  and  , 

then,  wdth  a  pair  of  oars  made  of  ,-*>^^^ 

old  pine  board,  we  rowed  away, 
leaving  the  miller  waving  his  hat. 

Our  catamaran  was  not  so  light 
as  a  row-boat,  but  it  floated,  and 
we  could  propel  it  with  the  oars, 
and,  best  of  all,  it  was  our  own 
invention  and  made  with  our  own 
hands.  We  called  it  a  ''  Man  Fri- 
day,'' and  by  means  of  it  we  ex- 
plored every  nook  in  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  lake;  and,  ever  afterward,  when  we  wanted  a  boat,  we  knew 
a  simple  and  inexpensive  way  of  making  one, —  and  a  safe  one,  too. 

The  picture  on  page  225  shows  how,  some  years  ago,  a  certain  flat-])oating 
party  enjoyed  a  "  tie-up"  one  day,  on  the  St.  John's  River,  Florida.  The  boat 
was  named  The  Ark,  and  among  its  comforts  were  a  tiny  cook-stove  and  four 
glass  windows. 

In  those  days,  no  l)and  of  ''  flatters  "  was  regarded  as  of  much  account  that 
failed  to  slay  an  alligator  in  the  first  day  or  two,  and  it  was  in  deference  to  this 
public  opinion  that  The  Ark  bore  at  each  side  of  its  cabin  one  of  these  reptiles 
as  a  trophy. 

During  the  cruise,  the  members  of  the  party  had  frequent  occasion  to  put 
into  practice  all  manner  of  devices  for  saving  labor,  and  making  the  hunter  as 
far  as  practicable  independent  of  a  mate  when,  as  often  happened,  two  men 
could  not  be  spared  to  go  foraging  together.  One  of  these  '*  wrinkles,"  as  they 
were  termed,  was  a  floating  flsh-car,  which,  being  attached  to  the  fisher's  waist, 
floated  behind  him,  as  he  waded,  netting.  Tliis  arrangement  not  only  saved 
much  weariness  in  carrying  finny  spoils  to  camp  after  a  long  and  perhaps  try- 


230 


nOYS'    HOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 


\u^  day,  but  it  lu'lpcd  to  keep  tlic  tisli  treslij  and  wlicu  not  iu  active  use,  it  was 
towed  behind  The  Ark. 

Many  hints  of  this  same  kind  mij^lit  be  ^iven,  but  this  one  will  suf&ce  to  show 
that  a  boy  with  his  wits  about  him  can  lighten  very  materially  the  fatigues 
inseparable  from  camping-out  and  flat-boating.  Endurance  of  hardship  is  noble  in 
itself,  and  there  is  call  enough  for  it  in  this  rough-and-tumble  world ;  but  the 
fellow  who  most  enjoys  ''roughing  it"  in  a  trip  outdoors  is  he  who  is  quick  to 
save  himself  unnecessary  exertion  by  using  the  simple  means  at  hand. 


The  '  ■  Mau  Friday  "  catamarau. 


CAMPS  AND   CAMPERS. 


"Coyne  for th  into  the  li^ht  of  things, 

Lit  tiaturc  he  four  teacher." 

Wordsworth. 


■ci^L'   ..!■    lM.Ugh.S. 


HOW  TO  CAMP  OUT, 


By  Daniel  C.  Beard. 


TO  me,  no  longer  a  young  boy,  the  next  best  thing  to  really  living  in  the 
woods  is  talking  over  such  an  experience.  A  thousand  little  incidents, 
scarcely  thought  of  at  the  time,  crowd  upon  my  mind,  and  bring  back  vnth  them 
the  feeling  of  freedom  and  adventure,  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  every  boy.  Sliall 
I  ever  enjoy  any  flavor  earth  can  afford  as  we  enjoyed  our  coffee's  aroma?  The 
flapjacks,  how  good  and  appetizing !  the  fish,  how  delicate  and  sweet !  And  the 
wonderful  cottage  of  boughs,  thatched  with  the  tassels  of  the  pine, —  was  there 
ever  a  cottage  out  of  a  fairy  tale  that  could  compare  with  it  ? 

I  have  tried  to  make  a  picture  from  memory,  and  the  result  lies  before  you. 
It  is  late  in  the  afternoon ;  there  stands  the  little  cot,  flooded  A^nth  the  light  of 


234 


BOYS'   JiOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 


Fig.  1. —  Frame-work  of  cottage. 


the  setting-  .sun  ;  those  who  built  it  and  use  it  for  ii  haltitution  are  off  exploring, 
hunting,  fishing  and  foraging  for  their  evening  meal,  and  the  small,  shy  creat- 
ures of   the  wood  take  the  opportunity  to  satisfy  the   curiosity  with  which 

they  have,  from  a  safe  distance, 
\    /  y|)/  viewed  the  erection  of  so  large 

and  singular  a  nest. 

The  boys  will  soon  return,  each 
with  his  contribution  to  the 
larder, —  a  fish,  a  squirrel,  a  bird, 
or  a  rabbit,  which  will  be  cooked 
and  eaten  with  better  appetite 
and  enjoyment  than  the  most 
elaborate  viands  that  home  could 
afford.  And,  although  such  joys 
are  denied  to  me  now,  I  can,  at 
least,  in  remembering  them,  give 
others  an  opportunity  to  possess 
similar  pleasures.  It  shall  be 
my  object  to  describe  how  these 
houses  may  be  built  and  these  dinners  cooked,  and  that,  too,  where  there  are 
neither  planks,  nor  nails,  nor  stoves.  To  boys  well  informed  in  woodcraft,  I 
should  need  to  give  only  a  few  hints ;  but,  for  the  benefit  of  amatem-s,  it  will 
be  wise  to  go  more  into  detail. 

Four  persons  make  a  good  camping  party.  Before  arriving  at  their  destina- 
tion, these  persons  should  choose  one  of  their  number  as  captain. 

The  captain  gives  directions  and  superintends  the  pitching  of  the  tent  or  the 
building  of  the  rustic  cottage.  The  site  for  the  camp  should  be  upou  a  knoll, 
mound,  or  rising  ground,  so  as  to  afford  a  good  drainage.  If  the  forest  abounds 
in  pine  trees,  the  young  cottage-builder's  task  is  an  easy  one.  It  often  happens 
that  two  or  three  trees  already  standing  can  be  made  to  serve  for  the  corners  of 
the  proposed  edifice,  though  trees  are  not  absolutely  necessary. 

Fig.  1  represents  part  of  the  frame-work  of  one  of  the  simplest  forms  of 
rustic  cottage.  In  this  case,  two  trees  serve  for  the  corners  of  the  rear  wall. 
The  upright  posts  are  young  trees  that  have  been  cut  down  and  firmly  planted 
at  about  four  or  five  paces  in  front  of  the  trees.  As  shown  in  the  diagram, 
enough  of  the  branches  have  been  left  adhering  to  the  trunks  of  the  upright 
posts  to  serve  as  rests  for  the  cross-bars.  To  prevent  complication  in  the  dia- 
gram, the  roof  is  not  shown.  To  make  this,  fasten  on  an  additional  cross-bar 
or  two  to  the  rear  wall,  then  put  a  pole  at  each  side,  slanting  down  from  the 
rear  to  the  front,  and  cover  these  poles  with  cross-sticks.  Wlien  the  frame- 
work is  finished,  the  security  and  durability  of  the  structure  will  be  improved 
by  fastening  all  the  loose  joints,  tying  them  togetlier  with  withes  of  -\nllow, 


HOW  TO    CAMP   OUT. 


235 


grass,  or  reeds.  The  next  stej)  is  to  cover  tlu;  fi-ame.  Tliis  is  done  after  the 
method  shown  in  Figure  2.  From  among  some  boughs,  saved  for  this  purpose, 
take  one  and  hang  it  upon  the  third  eross-bar,  eounting  from  the  ground  up; 
bring  the  bough  down,  passing  it  inside  the  second  bar,  and  resting  the  end 
on  the  ground  outside  the  tii-st  bar ;  repeat  this  with  other  boughs  nntil  the 
row  is  finished.  Then  begin  at  the  fourth  bar,  passing  the  boughs  down  inside 
the  third  and  outside  the  second  bar,  so  that  they  will  overlap  the  first  row. 
Continue  in  this  manner  until  the  four  walls  are  closed  in,  leaving  spaces 
open  where  windows  or  doors  are  wanted.  The  roof  is  thatched  after  the 
same  method,  beginning  at  the  front  and  working  upward  and  backward  to 
the  rear  wall,  each  row  overlapping  the  preceding  row  of  thatch.  The  more 
closely  and  compactly  you  thatcth  the  roof  and  walls,  the  better  protection 
will  they  afford  from  an}'  passing  shower.  This  completed,  your  house  is 
finished,  and  you  will  be  astonished  to  see  what  a  lovely  little  green  cot  you 
have  built. 

The  illustration  at  the  head  of  this  article  differs  from  the  one  we  have  just 
described  only  in  having  the  roof  extended  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  veranda,  or 
porch,  in  front;  the  floor  of  the  porch  being  covered  with  a  layer  of  pine- 
needles.  Should  you  find  your  house  too  small  to  accommodate  your  party,  you 
can,  by  erecting  a  duplicate  cottage  four  or  five  paces  at  one  side,  and  roofing 
over  the  intervening  space,  have  a  house  of  two  rooms  with  an  open  hall-way 
between. 

Before  going  to  housekeeping,  some  furniture  will  l)e  necessary  ;  and  for  this 
we  propose  to  do  our  sliopj)ing  right  in  the  neighborhood  of  our  cottage.  Here 
is  our  cabinet  and  upholstery  shop,  in  the  wholesome  fragrance  of  the  pines. 

After  the  lal)or  of  building,  your  thoughts  will  naturally  turn  to  a  place  for 
sleeping.  Cut  four  forked  sticks,  sharpen  the  ends,  and  drive  them  firmly  into 
the  ground  at  the  spot  where  you  wish  the  bed  to  stand  in  your  room.  Two 
strong  poles,  long  enough  to  reach  lengthwise  from  fork  to  fork,  will  serve  for 
side-boards,  a  number  of  short 
sticks  will  answer  for  slats;  after 
these  are  fastened  in  place,  you 
have  the  rustic  bedstead  shown 
in  Fig.  3.  A  good  spring-mat- 
tress is  very  desirable,  and  not 
difficult  to  obtain.  Gather  a  lot 
of  small  green  branches,  or  brush, 
and  cover  your  bedstead  with  a 
layer  of  it  about  one  foot  thick  ;  this  you  will  find  a  capital  substitute  for 
springs.  For  your  mattress  proper,  go  to  your  upholstery  shop  iinder  the  pine- 
tree,  and  gather  several  armfuls  of  the  dry  pine-needles ;  cover  the  elastic  brush 
'^  springs"  with  a  thick  layer  of  these  needles;  over  this  spread  your  india- 


Fig.  3.— Rustic  bedstead. 


236 


BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 


Fig.  4. — The  spring-mattres 


rublxT  blanket,  as  shown  in  Fi^.  5,  witli  the  rubber  side  under,  so  tliat  any 
iru)isture  or  dampness  there  may  be  in  your  mattress  may  be  prevented  from 
coming  through.  You  may  now  make  up  your  bed  with  whatever  wraps  or 
bhmkets  you  have  with  you,  and  .  ^ 

you  have  (Fig.  6)  as  complete  and 
comfortable  a  bed  as  any  forester 
need  wish  for. 

I  would  suggest  to  any  boy  who 
means  to  try  this  rustic  cabinet- 
making,  to  select  carefully  for  the 
bed-posts  sticks  strong  enough  to 
support  the  weight  he  intends  them  to  ])ear,  otherwise  his  slumbers  may  be 
interrupted  in  an  abrupt  and  disagreeable  manner.  My  first  experiment  in  this 
line  proved  disastrous.  I  spent  the  gi-eater  part  of  one  day  in  building  and 
neatly  finishing  a  bed  like  the  one  described.  After  it  was  made  up,  with  an 
army  blanket  for  a  coverlet,  it  looked  so  soft,  comfortable  and  inviting,  that  I 

could  scarcely  wait  for  bed-time 
to  test  it. 

When  the  evening  meal  was 
over,  and  the  last  story  told 
around  the  blazing  camp-fire,  I 
took  off  hat,  coat  and  boots, 
and  snuggled  down  in  my  new 
and  original  couch,  curiously 
watched  by  my  companions,  who  lay,  rolled  in  their  blankets,  upon  the  hard 
ground.  It  does  not  take  a  boy  long  to  fall  asleep,  particularly  after  a  hard 
day's  work  in  the  open  air,  but  it  takes  longer,  after  being  aroused  from  a 
sound  nap,  for  him  to  get  his  wits  together, —  especially  when  suddenly  dumped 
upon  the  ground  with  a  crash,  amid  a  heap  of  broken  sticks  and  dry  brush, 
as  I  happened  to  be  on  that  event- 
ful night.  Loud  and  long  were 
the  shouts  of  laughter  of  my  com- 
panions when  they  discovered  my 
misfortune.  Theoretically,  the  l>ed 
■was  well  planned,  but  practically 
it  was  a  failure,  because  it  had 
rotten  sticks  for  bed-posts. 

Having  provided  bed  and  shelter,  it  is  high  time  to  look  after  the  inner  boy; 
and  while  the  foragers  are  off  in  search  of  provisions,  it  will  be  the  cook's  duty 
to  provide  some  method  of  cooking  the  food  that  will  l)e  brought  in. 

One  of  the  simplest  and  most  practical  forms  of  bake-oven  can  be  made  of 
clay  and  an  old  barrel.  Remove  one  h(^ad  of  tlie  l)arrel,  soooj)  out  a  space  in  the 


Fig.  5. —  Mattress  covered  with  rubber  sheet. 


Fig.  0. — The  bed  completi 


now  TO   CAMP   OUT. 


237 


nearest  bank,  and  fit  tlie  barrel  in  {Vv^.  7).  If  tlie  im.d  or  clay  is  not  damp 
enon<?li,  moisten  it,  and  plaster  it  over  the  barrel  to  the  depth  of  a  foot  or  more, 
leaving-  a  plaee  for  a  chimnev  at  the  rear,  where  a  part  of  a  stave  has  been 
cut  away;    around   this  place   build  a  chimney  (Fig.  8).     After  this,  make  a 


^^//7/^^^^iJ 


Fig.  7.— The  oven  begun. 


Fig.  8.— The  oven  in  a  bank. 


FiL'.  !».— The  oven  in  an  artificial  embankment. 


the  barrel,  and  keep 
all  the  staves  are 
surrounding  clay  is 
makes  an  oven  that 
if  not  better  than, 
stove  <n"  range  at 
build  a  fire  inside 
til  the  oven  is  tlun-- 
i-akc  out  all  the 
your  dinner  in  and 
of   this   home-made 


good,  rousing  fire  in 
adding  fuel  until 
burned  out  and  the 
baked  hard.  This 
will  bake  as  well  as, 
any  new  patented 
home.  To  use  it, 
and  let  it  burn  un- 
oughly  heated,  then 
coal  and  embers,  i)ut 
ch)se  up  the  front 
oven  with  the  head  of  the  barrel,  which  you  should  preserve  for  this  ptu-pose. 

If  there  be  no  bank  convenient,  or  if  you  have  no  barrel  with  whic^h  to  build 
this  style  of  oven,  there  are  other  methods  that  will  answer  for  all  the  cooking 
necessary  to  a  party  of  boys  camping  out.  Many  rare  fish  have  I  eaten  in  my 
time.  The  delicioiis  pompano  at  New  Orleans,  the  brook-trout  and  grayling, 
fresh  from  the  cold  water  of  northern  Michigan,  but  never  have  I  had  fish  taste 
better  than  did  a  certain  large  cat-fish  that  we  boys  once  caught  on  a  set-line  in 
Kentucky.  We  Inult  a  fire-place  of  flat  stones,— a  picture  of  which  you  have  in 
Fig.  10  ;  this  we  covered  with  a  thin  piece  of  slate,  cleaned  the  fish,  and  placed  it, 
with  its  skin  still  on,  upon  the  slate  (Fig.  11).  When  well  baked  upon  one  side, 
we  turned  it  over,  until  it  was  thoroughly  cooked.  With  green  sticks  we  lifted 
off  the  fish  and  placed  it  upon  a  piece  of  birch-bark;  th(;  skin  adhered  to  the  stone, 


238 


BOYS'  HOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


and  the  meat  came  off  in  smokiiiii-,  snowy  pieces,  wliieli  Ave  ate  Avith  the  aid  of 
our  pocket-knives  and  rustic  forks  made  of  small  ^m-en  t\vi«;s  with  the  forked 
euds  sharpened. 

If  stones  cannot  be  had  to  answer  for  this  stove,  there  still  remains  the  old, 
primitive  camp-fire  and  pot-hook,  shown  in  Fig.  12.  The  very  sight  of  this  iron 
pot  swinging  over  a  blazing  fire  suggests  soup,  to  eat  which,  with  any  com- 
fort, spoons  are  necessary.    These  are  quickly  and  easily  made  by  thrusting  clam 


^P-3S^ 


<2-  *  _ 

Fig.  10.— Fire-place  of  flat  stones.  Fig.  11.— Ready  to  cook. 

or  mussel  shells  into  splits  made  in  the  ends  of  sticks.  In  Fig.  13,  a  shows  a 
shell  and  stick;  in  Fig.  13,  b  represents  a  spoon  made  firm  by  binding  the  shell  in 
its  place.     A  splendid  butter-knife  can  be  made  in  a  similar  manner,  and  with  a 

little  care,  from  the  shell  of  a  razor- 
clam  (Figs.  14  and  15). 

If  you  stay  any  time  in  your 
forest  home,  you  can,  by  a  little 
ingenuity,  add  many  comforts  and 
conveniences.  I  have  drawn  some 
diagrams,  as  hints  in  this  direction. 
For  instance.  Fig.  17  shows  the  man- 
ner of  making  an  excellent  rustic 
chair,  a  and  B  are  two  stout  poles; 
E  and  F  are  two  cross-poles,  to  which 
are  fastened  the  ends  of  a  piece  of 
canvas,  carpet  or  leather  (Fig.  18), 
which,  swinging  loose,  fits  itself 
exactly  to  your  form,  making  a 
most  comfortable  easy- chair  in 
tf.iiup.    It  often  happens  that  the 


Fig.  12.—  Boiling  the  soup. 
U  or  take  a  nap  after 


hard  dav 


which  to  ri 

peculiai-  foi-ni;itioii  of  sonu' stum])  or  brancii  suggests  new  styles  of  seats.     A 

table  (-an  l»c  vci-y  icadily  made  by  driving  four  forked  sticks  into  the  ground 


now  TO   CAMP    OUT. 


239 


Fig.  13. — Spoons 


Pig.  l4.— Knife-blade  and 
handle. 


for  legs,  and  covering  the  cross-sticks  upoD  the  top  with  pieces  of  birch  oi- 
other  smooth  bark;  Fig.  16  shows  a  table  made  in  this  manner,  witli  one 
piece  of  bark  removed,  to  reveal  its  construction. 

As  a  general  rule,  what  is  taught  in  boj^s'  books,  tliough  correct  in  theory, 
when  tried  proves  impracticable.  This  brings  to  mind  an  incident  that  hap- 
pened to  a  party  of  young  hunters  camping  out  in  Ohio.  Early  one  morning, 
one  of  the  boys  procured  from  a  distant  farm-house  a  dozen  pretty  little  white 
bantam  eggs.  Having  no  game,  and  only  one  small  fish  in  the  way  of  fresh 
meat,  the  party  congratulated  themselves  upon  the  elegant  breakfast  they  would 
make  of  fresh  eggs,  toasted  crackers  and  coffee.  How  to  cook  the  eggs  was  the 
question.     One  of  the  party  proposed  his  plan. 

"I  have  just  read  a  book,''  said  lie,  ''which  tells  how  some  travelers  cooked 


l-'rame  of  chair. 


Fig.  18. —  C'anip-chair. 


fowl  and  fish  by  rolling  them  up  in  clay,  and  tossing  them  into  tlie  lire.     Slutll 
we  try  that  plan  with  the  eggs  ? " 

The  rest  of  the  party  assented,  and  soon  all  were  busy  rolling  rather  large 
balls  of  blue  clay,  in  the  center  of  each  of  which  was  an  egg.  A  dozen  were 
placed  in  tlie  midst  of  the  hottest  embers,  and  the  boys  seated  themselves  around 
the  lire,  impatiently  awaiting  for  the  eggs  to  cook.     They  did  cook, —  with  a 


240 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


vengeance  !  Zip,  bang  !  went  one,  then  another  and  another,  until,  in  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  not  an  egg  remained  unexploded ;  and  the  hot  embers  and 
bits  of  clay  that  stuck  to  the  boys'  hair  and  clothes  were  all  that  was  left  to 
remind  them  of  those  nice,  fresh  bantam  eggs.  It  was  all  very  funny,  but  ever 
after,  the  boys  of  that  party  showed  the  greatest  caution  in  trsing  new  schemes, 
no  matter  how  well  they  might  seem  to  be  indorsed. 


Fig.  16. — A  camper's  table. 


'  '•]■ 


*.•. : 


WHEN  I  was  a  boy,  I  lived 
with  my  father  on  his  plan- 
tation in  the  Cherokee  country  of 
North  Georgia.  A  passion  for  the 
study  of  natural  history,  and  espe- 
oially  of  ornithology,  led  me  to  spend 
lost  of  my  time  in  the  woods. 
1  had  a  leather  knapsack,  made 
water-tight,  in  whicih  I  earned  my 
books  and  a  small  telescope.  My 
.irms  were  an  English  bow  and  ar- 
rows, and  a  very  short,  light,  single- 
barreled  shot-gun. 

My  father's  plantation  consisted 
of  some  two  or  three  hundred  acres 
of  cleared  land,  lying  on  the  edge  of 


16 


242 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


an  immense  forest  of  pine  and  oak,  throngli  which  flowed  a  beautiful  river, 
named  by  tlie  Cherokee  Indians  '^  Coosawattee."  Some  clear  spring  streams,  too, 
rising  in  the  foot-hills,  or  rather  the  spur-ridges  of  the  Pine-log  mountains,  rip- 
l)led  along  the  many  little  dells  among  ferns,  wild  morning-glories,  and  balsam. 

This  region  was  a  paradise  of  birds  and  many  kinds  of  small  quadrupeds.  A 
few  deer  were  to  be  seen,  if  you  understood  how  to  look  for  them,  and  occasion- 
ally a  flock  of  wild  turkeys  would  rise  from  the  edge  of  some  sedgy  glade  with 
a  loud  flapping  of  wings,  and  fly  away  into  the  darkest  hollows  of  the  woods. 

Let  me  tell  y(m  how  I  prosecuted  my  various  studies.  I  Avished  to  study  all 
the  branches  of  a  liberal  education  whilst  paying  especial  attention  to  zoology 
and  general  natural  history,  and  I  so  arranged  my  studies  that  by  spending 
more  than  the  usual  time  with  my  teachers  Mondays,  Tuesdays,  and  Wednes- 
days, I  had  Thursdays,  Fridays,  and  Saturdays  free  for  my  woodland  ramblings 
and  outdoor  studies.  It  was  a  very  joyful  school-life.  Whilst  lying  beside 
clear  mountain-springs,  in  the  cool  shade  of  the  wild  woods,  with  many  rare 
songsters  warbling  above  me,  I  read  Wilson  and  Bonaparte  and  Audul)on's  books 
on  birds.  At  other  times  I  would  sit  on  the  cedar-covered  bluffs  of  the  Coosa- 
wattee, and  pore  over  mathematical  problems.  I  read  some  choice  novels, 
principally  French,  in  order  to  get  a  good  knowledge  of  that  language.  I 
remember  well  how  "  The  Romance  of  a  Poor  Young  Man  "  delighted  me.  I 
translated  and  read,  during  one  bass-fishing  season,  the  "  Essay  on  Old  Age," 
and  the  ^'Somniiim  Scipionis"  of  Cicero,  and  many  of  the  odes  of  Horace. 

My  father  had  a  friend  living  in  England  who,  learning  that  I  was  a  great 
bird-hunter,  wrote  to  ask  if  I  could  kill  and  skin  for  him  two  perfect  specimens 
of  the  great  black  woodpecker,  a  bird  then  very  hard  to  find,  and  now  almost 


"Lyiii^c  ill  till;  cool  shiuk'  1  roml  and  .sludiid. 


Tlli:   SCHOOL  IN  THE    WOODS. 


243 


We  built  a  rwXa  sliclt 


extinct  in  a  large  part  of  what  was  once  its  locality.  He  offered  to  pay  nie  ten 
ponuds,  sterling  money,  for  the  skins.  Of  course,  I  was  delighted  with  the 
chance  of  earning  so  large  a  sum  in  a  way  which  appeared  so  easy. 

It  was  in  February  when  I  received  the  letter.  I  remember  that  a  light  snow, 
a  rare  thing  in  that  latitude  so  late  in  the  winter,  lay  on  everything,  sticking  so 
fast  to  the  leaves  of  the  small  pine  saplings  that  the  lower  limbs  drooped  down 
to  the  ground.  I  went  forth  at  once  with  my  shot-gun,  thinking  that  in  a  few 
hours  I  could  earn  the  ten  pounds.  But  I  did  not  at  first  properly  consider 
what  the  Englishman  had  meant  by  perfect  specimens,  nor  did  I  foresee  that  it 
would  take  a  whole  week's  hunt  to  get  a  shot  at  the  kind  of  bird  I  wanted ; 
and  even  then  to  miss  it ! 

The  great  American  woodpecker  is  a  beautiful  bird.  Tie  is  rather  larger  than 
a  tame  pigeon,  almost  jet  black  over  the  most  of  his  body  and  wings,  though 
the  latter,  when  spread  out,  disclose  some  white  feathers  and  spots,  and  his 
breast  and  sides  are  mottled  with  shades  of  different  dark  colors.  On  each  side 
of  his  head  is  a  line  of  wliite.  On  his  crown  is  a  long  tuft  of  brilliant  scarlet 
feathers.  His  beak,  or  bill,  is  very  long,  strong,  and  sharp.  His  legs  are  short, 
of  a  dark,  dingy  hue.  Nearly  always,  when  flying,  he  goes  up  and  down,  as  if 
riding  on  long  waves  of  wind,  and  he  utters  a  lond  cackle  which  echoes  cheerily 
through  the  woods. 


244  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

I  remember  where  I  killed  my  finest  speciiiu'u  of  this  kind  of  woodpecker. 
It  was  on  the  side  of  John's  Mountain,  about  twenty  miles  from  fathei"'s  plan- 
tation. I  was  climbing  up  a  very  steep  place  among  some  small  ''  black- 
jack "  trees,  when  the  bird  flew  right  over  my  head,  and  launched  himself  for  a 
strong  sweep  across  the  valley.  I  threw  up  my  gun  and  fijfcd  with  a  hurried 
aim.  Luckily  I  hit  him  ;  but,  oh,  where  did  he  fall  to !  It  took  me  nearly  a 
half  hour  of  hard,  dangerous  clambering  down  the  cliffs  to  get  to  him. 

I  sent  the  Englishman  thirteen  birds  —  their  skins,  I  mean  —  before  he  got 
two  he  would  be  satisfied  with.  Then  I  wrote  to  him  not  to  send  me  the  money, 
but  to  get  me  the  best  double-barreled  shot-gun  the  ten  pounds  would  buy  in 
London.  This  he  did,  and  I  afterward  carried  the  gun  through  many  a  big 
hunt  in  Florida. 

What  made  my  school-life  in  the  woods  most  delightful  was  the  companion- 
ship of  my  brother,  a  little  younger  than  I,  who  studied  with  me.  He  was  a 
most  enthusiastic  egg-hunter.  He  collected  for  the  cabinets  of  two  or  three 
gentlemen  a  great  number  of  rare  bird-eggs.  We  both  delighted  in  shooting 
with  the  bow  and  arrow.  Sometimes  we  spent  a  day  in  the  woods  as  follows : 
We  would  go  to  some  one  of  the  many  cold  springs  of  clear  water  in  among  the 
hills,  and  select  an  open  spot,  where  we  would  set  up  a  small  mark  to  shoot  at. 
Our  rule  was  to  shoot  for  half  an  hour,  then  unstring  our  bows  and  drink  a  cup 
of  water,  in  which  we  had  dissolved  some  blackberry,  mulberry,  or  currant  jeUy ; 
then  take  our  books  and  study  hard  for  an  houi',  after  which  take  another  half- 
hour's  shooting,  followed  by  lunch.  Under  such  circumstances  study  was  easy 
and  our  sport  was  glorious. 

Those  little  mountain  streams  of  North  Georgia  aliound  in  bass,  a  very  gamy 
fish.  We  used  to  angle  a  great  deal  for  it  at  the  proper  season.  Sometimes  we 
would  neglect  our  lessons  a  little  when  the  fish  were  particularly  lively ;  but  we 
made  up  for  this  on  rainy  days  when  we  could  do  nothing  but  study. 

Late  in  the  bass-fishing  season  the  muscadines  ripen  along  the  streams.  They 
are  very  large  wild  grapes,  growing,  not  in  clusters,  but  singly,  as  do  plums.  I 
know  of  nothing  more  delicioiis  than  a  muscadine.  We  used  to  take  a  little  flat- 
bottomed  boat,  and  pole  it  along  the  banks  of  those  rivers  where  the  muscadine- 
vines  covered  the  overhanging  trees,  and,  getting  hold  of  a  bough,  we  would 
shake  down  the  dark  purple  fruit  until  the  floor  was  covered.  Then  we  would 
eat  and  study  at  the  same  time,  while  the  waves  of  the  river  kept  onr  boat  gently 
swaying  up  and  down.  We  sometimes  professed  to  think  that  muscadine  juice 
softened  the  conditions  of  an  algebraic  prol^lem,  and  even  brightened  the  angles 
of  French  verbs.  When  we  were  reading  Fenelon's  "  Adventures  of  Telemnchus," 
we  haunted  a  little  island  in  the  Oothcaloga,  which  we  named  '^  L'lle  de  Calypso,'' 
and  upon  it  we  built  ourselves  a  rude  shelter  under  a  giant  plane-tree.  From  the 
stream  at  the  south  end  of  this  island  we  caught  some  very  large  bass,  and  some 
blue  perch,  called  ))i-e;mi  by  the  Soutliern  j)e()j)le. 


THE  SCHOOL  IN  THE   WOODS.  245 

Immediately  after  the  first  heavy  frosts  of  autiiinii,  we  went  to  the  iiiouutuins 
to  gather  chestnuts.  The  trees  were  generally  very  large,  and  often  they  bore 
enormously  large  quantities  of  those  huge  prickly  burrs  in  which  the  nuts  gi-ow. 
After  the  frost,  the  first  wind  would  cover  the  ground  at  the  roots  of  the  trees 
with  the  burrs  already  opened  and  the  nuts  peeping  out.  Nowhere  in  the  world 
coidd  be  found  finer  chestnut  forests  than  those  of  North  Georgia  a  few  years 
ago  ;  but  now  they  are  sadly  dilapidated,  worms  having  killed  many  of  the  trees. 
On  our  nutting  excursions  w'e  went  in  a  mountain  cart  drawn  by  mules,  and 
camped  out  for  a  week  or  so.  We  studied  at  night,  by  the  light  of  flaming 
splinters  of  resinous  pine,  called  by  the  Southern  people  "  lightwood."  Our 
teachers  sometimes  would  go  with  us  on  these  pleasant  rambles,  giving  us  our 
lectures  in  the  open  air.  This  camping  out  is  a  very  enjoyable  thing  in  every 
way,  when  the  weather  is  fine.  Wilson's  beautiful  descriptive  prose  discloses 
its  very  subtlest  charm  when  read  aloud  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  crackling 
outdoor  fire,  amid  the  stillness  of  the  woods  by  night.  Meat  is  jui(ner  and  bread 
sweeter  when  eaten  in  the  open  air,  and  mental  food  takes  on  the  same  increase 
of  flavor  and  novelty  of  taste  wdien  blown  over  by  the  winds,  shone  upon  by 
the  sun  and  moon,  and  dampened  by  the  dews  of  nature. 

When  men  ask  me  where  I  was  educated,  I  answer :  ''  In  the  University  of  the 
Woods,"  and  they  sometimes  add  the  further  question  : 

''  Is  that  a  German  school  ? '' 

Then  I  look  grave,  and  shake  my  head,  saying: 

'■'■  No,  it  is  situated  in  the  Georgian  mountains." 

Which,  of  course,  sounds  very  much  as  if  my  education  were  Asiatic ! 


HOW  TO  CAMP  OUT  AT  THE  BEACH, 


By  Frank  E.  Clark. 


WHERE  shall  we  spend  our  next  summer  vacation,  hoys  ?  Perhaps  just  at 
the  time  you  are  reading  this,  you  may  not  consider  the  problem  veiy 
pressing  to  one,  but  you  will  think  it  so  by  the  time  the  hot,  bright  days  begin 
to  make  the  school  hours  tedious. 

So  we  propose  to  take  time  by  the  forelock  and  tell  you  now  of  a  real  jolly 
way  of  spending  a  part  of  those  vacation  weeks. 

Some  of  you  will  go  to  Saratoga,  or  Long  Branch,  or  the  White  Mountains, 
with  your  parents,  although  such  a  way  of  spending  a  vacation  requires  a 
heavier  pocket-book  than  many  of  us  possess.  Yet  when  the  fall  brings  us 
home,  and  school  begins  again,  we  will  warrant  you  that  those  who  go  with 
us  will  have  su<^li  glowing  reports  of  tlieir  grand,  good  times  that  you  will  all 
want  to  join  our  party  another  yeai-. 

One  great  advantag(!  of  our  i)lnn  is  that  it  costs  so  little  that  almost  any 
of  us  can  carry  it  out,  and  when  y(ui  ask  ]iapa  about  it,  and  lie  looks 
over  his  spectacles  and  sliakcs  his  head,  as  much   as  to  say,  "  I  can't  afford 


HOW  TO   CAMP  OUT  AT  THE  BE  AC  11.  247 

it/'  you  can  t<'ll  liim  that  it  ^^•ill  not  cost  liiiii  mncli  more  than  if  you  liad 
staid  at  home. 

Then  if  mamma  looks  troubled  and  fears  you  will  catch  cold,  and  Aunt  Jane 
warns  you  not  to  get  drowned,  and  sister  Kate  suggests  that ''  there  will  be  lots  of 
bugs  and  snakes  and  ugly  things  creeping  about,"  you  can  tell  them  that  the 
man  who  told  you  the  plan  has  Ijeen  there  himself  and  knows  all  about  it,  and 
that  those  lions  in  the  way  will  all  be  found  to  be  chained  when  you  get  to  them. 

Now,  before  we  conjure  up  any  more  of  the  objections  which  the  home  friends 
will  raise,  it  may  be  important  to  tell  you  that  our  plan  is  to  take  a  tent  and 
camp  out  for  a  few  weeks  upon  the  seashore  in  the  most  approved  "  Robinson 
Crusoe  "  style,  with  the  exception  that  we  shall  have  Tom  and  Dick  and  Harry 
for  our  companions  instead  of  Friday  and  the  goat. 

In  the  first  place,  you  must  know  that  this  is  not  to  be  an  ordinary  visit  to 
the  beach,  such  as  any  one  with  plenty  of  money  can  make,  but  Ave  are  going  to 
leave  our  good  clothes  and  our  every-day  life  at  home  as  far  as  it  is  possible,  and 
take,  besides  oui'  old  clothes,  a  large  stock  of  good-nature  and  a  determination 
to  be  pleased  with  whatever  we  find. 

And  we  expect  to  bring  back  sunburnt  cheeks,  robust  health,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  some  charming  vacation  weeks. 

But,  before  determining  anything  else,  we  must  be  careful  about  selecting  our 
party.  We  are  to  rough  it,  you  know, —  to  catch  our  own  fish  and  cook  them 
too,  to  sleep  on  the  ground,  and  perhaps  get  wet  and  cold,  without  gi-umbling. 
So  we  want  five  or  six  good  fellows  in  oiu-  party,  but  no  babies,  or  dandies,  or 
fault-finders. 

The  next  thing  to  be  thought  of  is  the  tent.  This  should  be  large  enough  to 
hold  us  all  (iomfortably,  as  we  lie  stretched  out  at  night,  with  a  little  spare  room 
for  our  stores.  An  A  tent  is  the  best, —  that  is,  oneAvith  a  ridge-pole,  supported 
at  each  end  by  uprights, —  since  this  gives  more  available  room  than  a  cii-eular 
tent  with  one  pole  in  the  center. 

This  we  can  hire  of  any  sail-maker  for  aljout  three  dollars  per  week. 

To  keep  us  warm  through  the  chilly  nights,  which  we  almost  always  find 
near  the  sea,  we  shall  want  a  heavy  army  blanket  and  an  old  winter  overcoat, — 
no  matter  how  worn, —  which  we  can  put  on,  if  necessary,  when  we  go  to  bed. 

Besides  these,  on  account  of  the  dampness,  we  should  have  two  or  three 
rubber  blankets  to  spread  on  the  ground. 

What  shall  we  eat,  and  what  shall  we  drink!  are  the  next  questions  of  vital 
importance.  The  latter  question  is  easily  answered  by  pitching  our  tent  within 
sight  of  some  good  spring  or  well,  but  the  former  demands  more  attention.  In 
our  party  we  do  not  intend  to  fare  sumptuously  every  day ;  in  fact,  you  will  be 
surprised  to  know  how  few  things  in  the  edible  line  are  necessary  to  our  comfort. 
Here  is  a  list,  and  perhaps  even  one  or  two  of  these  might  be  omitted:  Hard-tack, 
salt  pork,  ham,  potatoes,  corn  meal,  coffee,  sugar,  condensed  nulk,  salt  and  pepper. 


248  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

We  have  found  that  a  barrel  of  hard-tack  will  last  a  party  of  six  between  three 
and  four  weeks,  if  they  occasionally  manage  to  get  a  small  supply  of  softer 
bread. 

Of  salt  pork,  which  we  shall  find  indispensable  in  cooking  the  fish,  we  shall 
want  at  least  ten  pounds.  The  corn  meal  will  be  useful  to  roll  the  fish  in  before 
frying  them,  as  well  as  in  making  corn  dodgers,  slapjacks,  and  Johnny-cakes. 

Indeed,  for  any  of  those  dishes  which  our  genius  for  cooking  can  invent,  com 
meal  is  far  better  than  flour,  and  twenty  or  even  thirty  pounds  of  it  will  be  none 
too  much  for  a  three-weeks'  trip.  One  good-sized  ham,  six  pounds  of  coffee, 
twenty  pounds  of  sugar,  four  cans  of  condensed  milk,  and  a  liberal  supply  of 
salt  and  pepper  will  complete  our  stores.  It  may  be  easier  to  get  the  potatoes 
near  the  camp  than  to  take  them  from  home. 

The  only  things  now  left  to  be  provided  are  the  cooking  utensils.  A  smaU 
sheet-iron  stove  is  much  more  convenient  than  a  fire-place  of  stones,  and  any 
good  tinman  will  give  us  just  what  we  want  if  we  ask  for  a  "camp  stove." 
This,  together  with  coffee-pot,  spider,  tin  pail  for  boiling  potatoes,  tin  plate,  cup, 
knife,  fork,  and  spoon  for  each  member  of  the  party,  ought  not  to  cost  more 
than  fifteen  dollars. 

These  articles  are  all  made  especially  for  camping  parties,  so  as  to  go  inside 
of  the  stove,  which  has  a  handle  at  each  end,  and  can  thus  be  carried  easily  like 
a  small  trunk. 

Now  that  our  preparations  have  all  l)een  made,  let  us  count  the  cost  before 
setting  out. 

Here  is  the  bill,  founded  on  a  careful  estimate,  in  about  the  shape  that  our 
treasurer  will  present  it  when  we  come  to  leave  the  beach : 

Tent  for  three  weeks,  at  $3.00  per  week $9.00 

Provisions  taken  with  us 22.00 

Stove  and  cooking  utensils 15.00 

Fresh  provisions  bought  at  the  beach,  such  as  eggs,  meat,  fresh 

bread,  etc 15.00 

Incidentals 20.00 

Total $81.00 

This  sum  divided  among  six,  you  see,  makes  each  one's  share  of  the  expense 
$13..')0  for  three  weeks,  or  $4.50  per  week. 

Of  course  this  does  not  include  the  cost  of  traveling  to  the  camp. 

We  have  taken  pains  to  be  minute  and  accurate  in  these  figures,  since  we  know 
that  their  amount  will  decide  tlie  ])()int,  in  many  cases,  whether  a  party  can  go 
to  the  ])each  or  not. 

When  we  have  obtained  from  Aunt  Jane  her  best  receipts  for  fish  chowder 
and  fried  fish,  corn  cakes,  coffee,  etc.,  we  may  consider  ourselves  ready  to  start 
at  a  moment's  notice. 


A  hoinesifk  yomi^'  i-nn\\> 


250  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 

There  are  precautions  to  l)e  tliougbt  of  before  we  make  up  our  minds  to  start 
on  such  an  expedition.  In  the  first  place,  we  must  not  persuade  any  boy  of  very 
weak  constitution  to  go  with  us,  because,  although  sea  air  and  bathing  would 
probably  be  of  the  greatest  service  to  such  a  one,  our  rough  mode  of  living 
might  be  an  injui-y  to  him. 

And  then,  before  we  go,  we  should  determine  to  be  careful  to  select  a 
camp  where  the  bathing  is  safe  and  where  there  is  no  strong  under-tow.  It 
will  be  easy  enough  to  do  this  if  Ave  take  a  little  trouble  and  make  proper 
inquiries. 

Now  that  we  are  all  ready,  we  are  confronted  by  the  important  question 
Where  shall  we  go  ? 

Very  likely  you  know,  or  if  not,  3'our  friends  will  tell  you,  of  ''just  the  place  " 
for  a  tenting  party.  In  fact,  '^  just  the  places "  are  so  numerous  along  our 
Atlantic  coast,  and  you  to  whom  we  are  writing  are  so  widely  scattered,  that  it 
would  be  difficult  to  name  any  one  place  that  would  be  convenient  for  man}^  of 
you.  We  would  only  suggest  that  you  should  not  choose  a  fashionable  watering- 
place,  but  some  retired  spot,  where  you  will  feel  at  ease  and  be  undisturbed. 
Moreover,  you  should  spread  yoiu'  canvas  on  a  dry  slope,  if  possible,  where  the 
water  will  not  settle,  and  in  a  place  where  the  sea  breezes  will  have  a  fair  chance 
at  you  too;  for  they  wiU.  be  a  better  preventive  against  mosquitoes  and  trouble- 
some flies  than  all  the  pennyroyal  and  catnip  in  the  world. 

If  you  w^ere  to  have  an  inland  camp,  the  shade  of  trees  would  1)e  indispensable, 
but  at  the  beach  the  breeze,  which  almost  always  springs  up  before  noon  from 
seaward,  will  serve  to  keep  you  cool. 

As  to  fish,  there  are  generally  plenty  of  them,  of  various  kinds,  to  be  found  all 
along  our  coast,  but,  unless  you  have  a  row-boat  always  at  command,  you  should 
choose  a  place  wdth  convenient  rocks  to  catch  them  from.  So,  to  put  it  in  a  word, 
the  best  place  for  our  camp  is  a  retired  sj)ot  on  a  little  slope,  with  bold  rocks  not 
far  off,  jutting  out  into  the  sea. 

Now  that  these  preliminaries  hav(?  been  settled,  we  mil  suppose  that,  with  all 
our  baggage,  we  have  been  transported  to  some  such  seaside  paradise  as  we  have 
described.  First,  up  goes  the  tent.  A  little  practice  will  make  this  only  a  ten- 
minutes'  job.  Then  a  committee  of  two  should  be  detailed  to  dig  a  trench  six  or 
eight  inches  deep  about  the  tent  which  will  carry  off  the  water  and  save  us  from 
a  wet  skin  in  rainy  weather. 

Two  more  will  resolve  themselves  into  a  fire-wood  brigade,  to  collect  the  fuel 
which  Neptune  has  kindly  cast  up  at  our  feet  in  the  shape  of  drift-wood,  and  the 
rest  will  l)etake  themselves  to  the  rocks,  with  their  lines  and  poles,  to  catch  the 
supper,  which  we  feel  pretty  confident  is  awaiting  us  just  beneath  those  green 
waves. 

For  bait  we  shall  use  dams,  or  worms,  or  luussels, —  wliicliever  are  most  con- 
venient.    Sea-wt)rnis,  or  "  sand-woi'ins," — uiily-lookinu-  crawlers   Ihoy  are,  with 


HOW  TO    CAMP   OCT  AT  THE   BEACH. 


251 


almost  iuimnierable  Icji's, —  can  often  be  fonnd  in  great  numbers  under  the  stones 
when  the  tide  is  low,  and  they  make  excelleut  bait. 

If  none  of  the  party  understands  such  matters,  almost  any  fisherman  we  may 
meet  will  teach  us  how  to  prepare  our  fish.  Then  we  must  boil  the  coffee  and 
lay  the  fish  in  the  sizzling  frying-pan,  stir  up  the  Johnny-cake,  fry  the  potatoes, 
and  in  half-an-hour  we  shall  all  be  ready  to  sit  down  to  a  royal  supper.  At  least 
this  \'rill  be  the  verdict  of  our  sharp  appetites. 

By  the  time  supper  is  disposed  of  and  the  dishes  are  washed  up,  it  will  begin  to 
grow  dark. 

So  we  will  pile  the  largest  piece  of  drift-wood  on  the  fire,  roll  ourselves  \\\)  in 
the  blankets  with  our  feet  to  the  blaze,  and  see  who  can  tell  the  best  stories, 
until  the  sleep-fairies  persuade  us  to  listen  to  stories  of  their  own  in  dreamland. 

And  here,  snugly  rolled  up  in  your  blankets,  the  last  story  told,  the  last  conun- 
drum given  up,  and  ])leasant  dreams  liovering  around,  we  propose  to  leave  you. 

Our  purpose  in  this  article  has  been  accomplished  if  we  have  told  you  hoiv  to 
go.  Though  we  might  go  on  for  pages  describing  the  pleasures  of  those  three 
weeks  of  camp-life,  we  will  not  do  so,  but  hope  that,  at  some  time,  many  of  you 
will  know  by  experience,  far  better  than  we  can  tell  you,  w'hat  rare  fun  there  is 
in  a  vacation  spent  at  "  the  tent  on  the  beach." 


''isik'-'l^   ■^'■-•| 


THE   BOYS'  PARADISE 


(A  Summer  Visitor'' s  Account  of  Camp  Chocorua.) 


By  Elizabeth  Bai.ch. 


IN  tlie  Indian  language  tlie  meaning  of  ''Asquam"  is  "shining  waters,"  and 
surely  no  name  could  better  deserihe  the  beautiful  lake  of  sparkling  blue, 
which,  nestling  among  the  noble  White  Mountains,  is  dotted  with  numerous 
islands.  Upon  one  of  these  islands  is  Camp  Chocorua,  so  called  from  the 
mountain  of  that  name, —  the  highest  point  to  be  seen  in  the  chain  of  hills 
inclosing  the  lake. 

Home  five  years  ago  it  was  decided  to  establish  on  this  island  a  summer  camp 
for  boys,  the  term  to  begin  in  June  and  to  end  about  the  tenth  of  September. 
The  first  summer  the  camp  opened  with  some  half-dozen  boys.  Last  season 
twenty-five  manly  little  fellows  tumbled  in  and  out  of  the  lake,  like  water- 
brownies,  perfectly  fearless,  paddling  canoes  which  had  l)een  made  by  tlieni- 
selves,  swimming  equally  well  in  clothes  or  without,  and  growing  active  and 
healthy  in  the  strong,  pui-e  inountaiii  aii*. 


THE   BOYS'    PARADISE. 


253 


Five  men,  composing  "the  faculty"  in  this  summer  camp,  have  charge  of  the 
boys,  and  "  freedom  without  license  "  might  almost  be  the  camp  motto,  so  care- 
less, hap})y,  and  untrammeled  are  the  lads,  yet  so  perfect  is  the  discipline.  One 
of  the  first  principles  of  the  camp  system  is,  that  in  every  way  the  faculty  shall 
live  the  same  lives  as  the  boys  themselves,  sharing  their  work  as  well  as  their 
pleasures;  the  spirit  existing  between  the  two  is  therefore  far  less  that  of  master 
and  pupil  than  tliat  of  good  comrades,  who  are  at  the  same  time  helpful  friends. 

Life  at  Camp  Chocorua  is  a  busy  one.  There  are  no  ''book  lessons,"  to  be 
sure;  but  a  good  many  things  are  taught  that  are  not  always  to  be  found 
in  books.  To  begin  with,  bracing 
mountain  ail'  and  active  out-of- 
door  life  give  a  keen  appetite,  and 
it  is  no  small  undertaking  to  pro- 
vide food  for  twenty  or  thirty 
hungry  mouths.  Then,  too,  the  tin 
dishes  and  plates  in  which  the  food 
is  cooked  and  eaten  have  to  be 
cleaned  and  kept  in  order,  and 
"  dish- washing  "  therefore  becomes 
a  necessity.  The  kitchen-beach  is 
a  lively  place  at  these  times.  In 
the  carpenter's  shop,  there  is  work 
of  various  kinds  to  be  done ;  there, 
too,  canoes  are  built,  but  no  boy 
is  allowed  to  paddle  or  sail  a  canoe 
until  he  is  an  adept  at  swimming, 
and  can  be  trusted  to  take  care  of 
himself  in  the  water.  This  rule  is 
one  of  the  strictest  in  camp.  The 
Golden  Rod  is  the  camp  newspaper. 
It  is  edited  and  entirely  conducted 
by  the  boys.  In  its  columns  ap- 
pears a  notice  to  the  effect  that  the  Dish-washing. 
"  Good-Will  Contracting  Company 

washes  clothes,  irons  clothes,  cleans  and  tidies  beaches,  builds  piers,  stone  walls, 
steps,  etc.,  carries  dirt,  and  publishes  newspapers."  This  will  show  idleness  has 
but  a  poor  chance  at  Camp  Chocorua.  The  boys  are  divided  into  four  crews, 
which  undertake  in  turn  the  different  kinds  of  work:  one  day,  the  cooking; 
the  next,  dish-washing ;  the  third,  police  duty — including  the  tidying  of  beaches, 
and  all  work  assigned  to  no  other  crew.  The  fourth  day  is  "off  duty."  This 
changes  the  kind  of  work  done  daily,  and  yet  gives  each  boy  a  chance  of  learn- 
ing all  the  tasks.    One  of  the  faculty  works  with  each  crew  of  boys. 


254  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

The  l3oys  sleep  in  wooden  buildings,  which  are  roofed  over,  but  thoroughly 
ventilated,  and  the  lads  seem  cozy  enough  lying  curled  up  in  array  blankets  or 
on  mattresses  placed  on  the  floor.  They  may,  if  they  wish,  take  a  dip  in  the  lake 
before  breakfast,  and  no  one  who  has  not  tried  it  can  realize  the  brightening, 
bracing,  ''  wakening-up  "  effect  of  that  morning  dip  !  How  it  clears  the  brain 
and  invigorates  the  body,  making  one  feel  equal  to  all  things,  strong  and  ready 
to  do!  The  regular  morning  swim  does  not  take  place  until  later, — about  eleven 
o'clock,  after  the  camp  work  is  complete.  All  through  the  week  the  boys  may 
wear  shoes  and  stockings,  or  they  may  go  barefoot,  just  as  they  happen  to  fancy, 
and  the  camp  costume  consists  of  a  gray  flannel  shirt  and  short  trousers. 

On  Sundays,  however,  they  all  wear,  in  addition,  scarlet  stockings  and  scarlet 
caps,  while  their  gray  shirts  are  laced  with  scarlet  cords.  A  bonny  crew  they 
look,  as  they  push  off  in  the  "church  boat"  at  three  o'clock,  to  meet,  at  Cox's 
Beach,  half  a  mile  away,  any  visitors  from  the  neighboring  hotel  or  farm-houses 
who  may  wish  to  join  in  the  Sunday  services.  These  are  conducted  in  a  lovely 
spot  called  the  "  chapel,"  on  the  farther  side  of  the  island.  Rustic  seats  are 
ranged  around  an  open  space,  in  the  center  of  which,  above  a  rock  forming  a 
natural  altar,  rises  a  large  cross  made  of  white  birch.  This  altar  is  dressed  with 
leaves  and  flowers  by  the  boys,  before  the  service  begins ;  and  after  the  little 
congi'egation  is  assembled,  one  hears  in  the  distance  clear  young  voices  singing 
some  processional  hymn,  and  along  a  path  through  the  woods,  with  the  sunlight 
dancing  in  and  out  among  the  branches,  the  boys  come  nearer  and  nearer. 
Then  they  take  their  places  at  the  place  appointed  for  the  choir,  whilst  Mr. 
Ernest  Balch  takes  his  on  the  other  side  of  the  flower-decked  rock,  and  reads 
the  service. 

The  offertory  made  at  these  services  goes  to  the  different  charities  contributed 
to  by  the  camp,  and  more  than  one  sick  boy  or  girl  in  different  hospitals  have 
whiled  away  hours  of  loneliness  and  suffering  by  reading  books  or  magazines 
sent  by  those  happy,  healthy  boys  at  Camp  Chocorua  as  a  solace  in  their  pain. 
Sunday  afternoon  is  devoted  to  writing  home  letters,  and  in  the  evening,  at 
prayers,  Mr.  Baleh  has  a  quiet  talk  with  the  boys  in  the  chapel. 

The  summer  sports  take  place  in  August,  and  consist  of  fancy  swimming  and 
diving,  canoe  and  boat  racing,  base-ball  and  tennis.  Last  year  the  parents  and 
friends  of  the  boys,  to  the  number  of  one  hundred,  accepted  the  invitation  of 
the  camp,  and  dined  there  at  the  conclusion  of  the  sports,  which  lasted  two 
days.  A  few  weeks  later  some  little  plays  were  acted  by  the  boys.  These  were 
very  clever  productions,  and  they  were  excellently  performed.  The  price  of 
admission  was  modestly  placed  at  fifteen  cents,  but  the  visitors  gave  more  than 
that,  since  the  ol)ject  of  the  entertainment  was  to  add  to  money  already  collected 
which  was  to  be  devoted  to  endo^ving  a  bed  in  a  ehiklren's  f ree  hospital,  so  soon 
as  the  required  amount  could  l)e  raised.  A  huge  bonfii-c  burning  brightly 
on  the  shore,  and  dozens  of  red  capped  boys  darting  about  in  its  ruddy  blaze, 


THE    BOYS'    I'AUADISE. 


uw^'^'fy^^^^m^mii 


Their  first  appt-arance  upon  any  stage.     A  charity  play  in  a  primitive  theater. 

proved  a  pi(ituvesque  contrast  to  the  great  white  moon  as  it  rose  slowly  above 
the  mountains  and  threw  a  broad  band  of  silvery  light  across  the  lake,  while 
from  boat  to  boat  cheery  "good-nights"  rang  over  the  water  as  the  giiests  who 
had  enjoyed  the  evening's  festi\dties  were  rowed  to  shore. 

These  chai'ities  at  Camp  Chocoima  mean,  in  the  purest  sense  of  the  words, 
"  helping  others  out  of  one's  own  store,"  for  the  money  contributed  by  the  boys 
is  their  own,  fairly  earned  by  them  to  do  with  as  they  please.  Once  in  camp, 
an  equal  weekly  allowance  is  given  to  eveiy  boy,  no  matter  what  may  be  the 
difference  in  their  parents'  means.  This  allowance  is  small,  and  if  more  money 
is  desired,  either  for  candy,  or  soda  water,  or  as  a  contribution  to  the  charities, 
or  to  buy  materials  for  a  new  canoe,  or  to  purchase  a  canoe  already  built, —  for 
any  extra  luxury,  in  fact, —  the  l)oy  with  such  desires  is  obliged  to  earn  the 
money  needed,  and  work  which  is  paid  for  at  the  regnlar  rate  of  wages  for  labor 


256  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

will  always  be  furnished  liim  whereby  he  can  earn  it.  Contracts  can  be  taken 
for  leveling  paths,  or  building  walls,  or  anything  else  which  is  needed  at  the 
camp,  and  the  money  earned  by  such  work  is  deposited  by  the  boy  earning  it  in 
the  Chocorua  Bank.  Against  this  amount  on  deposit,  he  draws  his  check  in 
strict  business  fashion,  which  check  is  duly  honored  and  cashed.  If  at  the  end 
of  the  term  any  surplus  remains  to  his  credit,  he  has  entire  right  to  dispose  of 
it  as  he  may  choose,  but  no  money  from  home  is  granted  a  boy  exceeding  the 
original  sum  stipulated  as  his  weekly  allowance.  Just  as  men  work  and  make 
money,  and  learn  how  to  nse  that  money  in  the  outer  world,  so  do  these  boys 
work,  and  make  money  and  use  it  in  this  miniature  world  at  Camp  Chocorua. 
By  the  time  they  are  ready  to  enter  a  larger  sphere  in  life,  they  know  and 
appreciate  the  worth  of  money  honestly  earned,  and  understand  the  true  art  of 
spending  it. 

Lest  the  boys  should  in  truth  become  very  water-sprites,  they  go,  toward  the 
end  of  the  term,  for  a  week's  tramp  over  the  hills.  A  large  canvas-topped 
wagon,  drawn  by  oxen,  carries  blankets  and  provisions,  and  any  boys  who  grow 
tired  and  foot-sore  can  have  a  lift  when  they  feel  like  it.  They  camp  out  at 
night  and  have  many  amusing  adventures  by  day ;  and  at  the  different  farm- 
houses to  wlii(;h  they  come  in  their  wanderings,  fresh  milk  is  willingly  furnished 
to  the  jolly,  brown-faced,  red-capped  lads,  who  make  the  hills  ring  cheerily  with 
their  songs  and  laughter.  Each  year  the  youngest  l)oy  of  the  whole  party  is 
called  the  camp  ^'  infant,"  and  is  accorded  several  extra  privileges,  not  the  least 
of  which  is  the  right  of  tasting  the  ice-cream  whenever  it  is  made,  without 
having  been  obliged  to  assist  in  making  it. 

Were  I  a  boy,  the  life  at  Camp  Chocorua  would  be  my  idea  of  a  thoroughly 
good  time,  combining,  as  it  does,  plenty  of  fun,  and  a  free,  open-air  life,  with  the 
acquisition  of  much  useful  knowledge  for  one's  self,  and  the  habit  of  exercising 
a  thoughtful  helpfulness  for  others. 


A  BOYS'   CAMP, 


By  OiNE  OF  THE  Calipers. 


"  Under  the  greenwood  tree, 
Who  loves  to  lie  with  me, 
And  tune  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bird's  throat; 
Who  doth  ambition  shun, 
And  loves  to  live  in  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, — 
Come  liither,  come  hither,  come  liither. 
Here  sliall  he  see 
No  enemy." — 

THESE  lines  from  Sliakspere's  ''As  You  Like  Tt"  came  to  me  aiiuiii  and 
again  as  my  fatlicr  fiiiislied   tlie  rcadino- ot"  a  eiivular  which  a  friend  had 
handed  him. 

"  Camp  Harvard,"  so  the  circuhir  dechired,  "  is  h)cated  on  the  shore  of  <ine  of 
New  Hampshire's  most  picturesque  hikes,  about  equidistant  from  Winchendon, 
17 


258  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  Sl'OBTS. 

Mass.,  and  Rindge,  X.  H.  The  design  of  the  camp  is  to  furnisli  boys  with  a 
rational  and  healthy  outdoor  life  during  the  summer  months,  where,  under 
competent  care  and  supervision,  they  can  learn  to  swim,  row,  fish,  do  some 
tramping  and  mountain-climl)ing,  and  engage  in  other  manly  sports  ;  form  and 
cultivate  good  habits,  and  build  up  their  Ijodily  strength.  The  cabins  are  of 
wood,  roofed,  floored,  commodious,  and  weather-i)roof .  Each  member  has  a  cot. 
The  best  of  wholesome  food  is  provided." 

''  I  know  one  of  the  two  young  men  who  established  Camp  Harvard,"  said 
my  fatliei',  as  he  ended  his  reading  of  the  circular.  "  They  are  students  at  the 
Cambridge  Theological  Seminary.  I  have  made  some  inquiries,  and  I  shall  be 
glad  to  have  you  spend  the  summer  in  the  woods  with  them.  I  presume  the 
other  boys  "\\ill  T)e  much  younger  than  yourself,  but  you  woiild,  doubtless,  find 
many  of  them  companionable ;  and  life  in  the  open  air,  for  a  couple  of  mouths, 
would,  I  think,  be  pleasant  and  beneficial  to  you.'' 

It  was  a  long  time  before  I  fell  asleep  that  night.  I  had  always  been  anxious 
to  camp  out,  and  here  was  a  glorious  opportunity. 

Then  followed  busy  days.  The  circular  said :  "  Boys  are  recommended  to  bring, 
in  addition  to  the  clothes  they  travel  in,  two  gray  flannel  shirts,  two  pairs  old 
trousers,  knickerbockers  (one  pair  corduroy),  long  rubber  coat,  swimming- 
trunks,  two  pairs  heavy  blankets  (dark),  strong  shoes  (one  or  two  paii-s  with 
rubber  soles),  old  overcoat,  ordinary  underclothing,  stout  red  belt,  high  stock- 
ings (two  pairs  dark  red),  slippers,  night-shirts  or  jjflj«w?rts,  brush  and  comb, 
sponge,  towels,  soap-case,  two  tooth-brushes,  tennis  racquet,  skull-cap,  belt- 
knife,  and  an  old  jacket." 

Mamma  saw  that  I  was  supplied  with  all  these  things,  and  on  the  morning  of 
July  1st  I  took  my  place  on  a  railroad  train  bound  for  Rindge.  As  we  approached 
Rindge,  I  spied  a  large  mountain-wagon  with  four  horses  drawn  up  alongside 
the  shanty  which  served  as  a  depot.  I  was  confident  that  this  was  for  the 
campers,  for  it  already  contained  five  boys.  Ten  boys  left  the  train.  The 
divinity  student,  who  was  one  of  the  "masters"  of  the  camp,  and  whom  I  had 
already  met  in  the  city,  welcomed  me,  and  we  all  took  seats  in  the  wagon.  Up 
hill  and  down  we  traveled,  and  the  horses  seemed  to  enjoy  it  as  much  as  we  did. 
Mountain  drivers  have  a  way  of  slowing  up  their  horses  going  downhill,  and 
sending  them  up  on  a  gallop.  Now  the  road  wound  along  a  narrow  ledge 
beside  Monomonock  and  thence  onward  through  a  dense  forest,  where  tall, 
straight  sugar-maples  raised  their  leafy  crowns  high  in  air;  smooth  l)eeches, 
with  round,  gray  trunks,  stood  like  massive  i)illars ;  and  great  yellow  l)irches, 
with  shaggy,  curling  bark  and  gnarled  limbs,  rose  like  monarchs  above  the 
lesser  trees.  Finally,  a  sudden  turn  in  the  road  brought  us  face  to  face  with  the 
words,  "  Camp  ILarvaiu),"  in  large  red  letters  on  a  sign  suspended  from  a  noble 
oak.     Thf  tratc-bars  wri-c  down,  and   a   ridi-  of  less   tliaii   half  a   mile   farther 


A    BOYS'    CAM!' 


259 


brought  us  to  a  pretty  i;-rove  -where  chistcrcd  llic  caliius  tliat  coniiiosed 
the  eaiu}). 

Who  lias  not  felt  the  pleasures  of  life  in  the  forest?  It  is  (piitc  iiii|»ossi])le  to 
put  them  into  words,  oi-  to  make  one  who  has  never  experienced  tlicin  imdci-- 
stand  what  they  are. 

There  is  a  sense  of  freedoni  and  freshness  every  hour.  A  round  of  simple, 
natural  toils  and  amusements  fills  up  each  day.     The  ear  soon  becomes  attuned 


The  mornmf^  pluiiirt'  in  tlie  lake. 


to  the  surroundings,  and  it  begins  to  hear  a  gentle  sound,  like  the  dropping  of 
ceaseless  rain.  "  It  is  the  pattering  of  the  minute  particles  falling  from  spruce 
and  pine  and  hemlock,  to  mingle  with  decaying  roots  and  underlirush  and  form 
the  rich,  dark  forest-mold  on  which  every  step  falls  so  softly.  Then  there  is  a 
rustling  of  leaves,  a  pattering  of  quick,  light  feet,  and  a  red  squirrel  runs  along 
a  fallen  trunk,  peers  at  one  curiously,  and  half  in  fear,  half  in  audacity, 
gives  its  sharp,  shrill  bark.     A  little  l)ird  which  one  can  not  see  pierces  the  air 


260 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


Arrival  of  the  mail.     (See  page  264.) 

with  a  slender,  long-drawn  note.  A  woodpecker  l>eats  his  sounding  tattoo  on  a 
hollow  tree,  and,  growing  bolder,  comes  nearer  and  nearer,  until  perhaps  he 
ventures  to  try  the  very  trunk  against  which  you  are  leaning. 

Everything  about  the  camp  was  examined  by  us  with  great  interest.  First, 
the  cookhouse,  where  a  man  was  preparing  dinner.  This  cabin  contained  a 
range,  two  long  tables,  a  refrigerator,  and  a  great  quantity  of  cooking  utensils. 
All  the  dishes,  cups,  saucers,  and  platters  were  of  tin  and  shone  like  mirrors. 
Adjoining,  was  the  storehouse,  which  was  the  base  of  table  supplies.  The  sleeping- 
cabin  was  about  fifty  feet  in  length  and  oblong,  with  a  slanting  roof.  The  upper 
half  of  sides  and  rear  were  "  flaps,"  swinging  on  hinges.  These  were  open  during 
the  day,  but  usually  closed  at  night.  Above  the  flaps  was  an  open  space  of  fourteen 
inches  all  around,'and  over  this  the  eaves  projected.  Cots  were  ranged  about  the 
sides  of  the  cabin,  and  choice  of  these  was  decided  by  lot.  At  one  end  was  an 
open  veranda,  where  the  dining-tables  stood.  Large  reflecting  lanterns  w.iv 
pla.M-d  at  intervals,  and  several  small  liglils  hung  mi  a  row  near  the  eiitranee. 


A    HOYS'    CAMP.  261 

There  Avere  an  ample  inediciiie  cliest  and  otlicr  useful  caiiii)  features,  and  <tvfi- 
one  end  of  the  cabin  was  a  loft  for  truidcs.  Fifty  feet  ftoin  the  (•a])in  was  tiie 
beach.  The  pretty  lake  showed  scarcely  a  ripple  upon  its  f.iic  sui-face.  It  was 
three  miles  long  and  at  some  points  a  mile  wide,  with  many  eoves  and  inlets. 
Pai't  of  it  seemed  like  a  succession  of  small  lakes.  Along  the  shore,  were  boats 
in  great  variety,  from  the  flat-T)ottom  fishing-boats  to  the  racing-gig  with  its 
outriggers  and  delicate  lines.  The  silent  hills  beyond  lifted  themselves  toward 
heaven  in  the  glory  of  enduring  sti-ength,  while  old  Monadnock  to\v<'red  aloft  as 
<iommander  over  all. 

The  tooting  of  a  h(n*n  summoned  us  back  to  head-cpuirters.  Trunks  were  put 
in  ])la(H',  blankets  and  the  camp  toggery  brought  forth  ;  we  exchanged  our  city 
clothes  for  the  latter,  and  life  at  Camp  Harvard  began.  Consulting  the  bulletin, 
I  fouiul  myself  assigned  to  duty  as  ''  table-boy,"  with  one  of  the  fellows  who 
came  up  on  the  train  as  my  associate.  It  was  new  work  for  me,  but  one  of  the 
masters  took  hold  with  us.  The  table  was  soon  set,  and  a  steaming  hot  dinner 
was  brought  from  the  cookhouse.  Grace  was  said  by  one  of  the  masters,  the 
company  all  standing  with  Ijare  heads  ;  then  caps  were  resumed  and  hungry 
ai)petites  began  to  be  appeased.  Great  milk-cans,  each  holding  ten  quarts,  were 
l)rought  up  from  the  icehouse.  The  supply  of  bread,  vegetables,  or  meat  needed 
constant  replenishing.  When  dinner  was  over  and  the  table  had  been  cleared 
and  the  floor  swept,  my  duties  ceased  until  supper-time.  The  camp  work  was 
done  by  detachments  of  boys  whose  assignments  varied  with  each  day.  A  bul- 
letin containing  the  assignments  for  the  following  day  was  posted  each  evening, 
so  that  every  boy  knew  in  advance  what  was  required  of  him.  All  campers, 
masters  included,  shared  the  daily  labors.  The  plan  succeeded  admirably. 
Each  boy  grew  to  be  particular  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  for  neglect 
was  seen  to  be  a  boomerang.  For  instance,  if  the  boy  whose  special  care 
happened  to  be  drinking-water,  failed  to  keep  up  a  fresh  supply,  the  other 
fellows  who  had  to  suffer  for  his  shortcomings  made  life  a  burden  to  him ; 
and  so  the  whole  camp  acted  as  a  sort  of  police  force  to  keep  each  member 
up  to  the  mark.  This  arrangement  transferred  much  responsibility  from  the 
masters  to  the  boys  themselves,  and  a  sense  of  responsibility  is  a  good  thing 
for  anybody. 

After  supper,  a  roaring  camp-fire  was  l)uilt,  and  by  this  time  we  all  were 
very  well  acquainted,  and  gradually  came  out  of  our  shells.  The  masters  were 
plied  with  (questions,  and  yarns  were  spun.  Perhaps  the  pleasantest  feature  of 
camp  life  Avas  the  evening  gathering  around  the  blazing  logs,  and  the  nine 
o'clock  horn  always  seemed  to  toot  ahead  of  time.  The  brother  of  one  of  the 
masters  had  si)ent  a  year  among  the  mines  and  ranches  of  Colorado,  and  his 
graphic  descriptions  and  thrilling  tales  were  admirably  adapted  to  our  willing 
ears.  Songs  we  always  had.  They  may  not  have  ranked  high  as  literary  pro- 
ductions ;  any  lack  in  this  respect,  however,  was  more  than  made  u])  by  their 


2G2  BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 

spirited  ri'iideriiig.     YLcra  i.s  one,  to  the  tune  of  *'  It 's  a  way  we  have  at  old 
Harvard'": 

■•It  's  a  way  we  have  at  Camp  Harvard, 

It  's  a  way  we  have  at  Cainj)  Harvard, 

It  's  a  way  we  have  at  Camp  Harvard, 

To  pass  the  time  away. 

If  I  'd  a  son  or  a  ward,  sir, 

A  *  dig,'  a  prig,  or  a  bard,  sir, — 

I  'd  send  him  to  Camp  Harvard,  sir. 

To  pass  the  time  away. 

"For  we  'd  like  to  have  yon  know,  sir, 
That  shirking  is  no  go,  sir; 
First  work,  then  play,  and  so,  sir, 
"We  pass  the  time  away. 

"  Now  if  yon  really  wish,  sir. 
An  epicurean  dish,  sir. 
Just  wait  till  we  bake  this  fish,  sir, 
To  pass  the  time  away." 

—  aud  so  on  throug^h  several  stanzas. 

By  ten  o'clock  every  night,  we  wrapped  ourselves  up  in  our  blankets,  lights 
went  out,  and  silence  reigned.  I  did  n't  chafe  much  under  this  rule,  for  the 
true  camper  is  always  asleep  as  soon  as  he  lies  down.  The  next  thing  I  heard 
was  a  buzzing  sound  —  the  alarm-clock  had  rung  —  it  was  half -past  six,  and  the 
sunlight  was  streaming  in  upon  the  campers.  Several  of  us  jumped  into  the 
lake  for  a  bath ;  later  in  the  season  this  morning  plunge  became  general,  and 
every  fellow  had  to  report  with  soap  and  tooth-brush.  After  l)reakfast,  there 
came  the  usual  camp  work, —  lanterns  to  be  filled,  the  sleeping-cabin  to  be  swept 
out,  various  ''  police "  duties  to  be  attended  to,  and  fuel  to  be  provided ;  at 
eleven,  there  was  instruction  in  swimming.  And  so  the  days  went  by.  The 
work  was  so  systematized  as  not  to  fall  heavily  upon  any  one  person,  unless  he 
sliirked ;  and  there  was  ample  time  for  base-ball,  cricket,  tennis,  fishing,  boating, 
and  other  amusements.  When  the  days  were  very  warm,  hammocks  were  very 
popular.  The  Fourth  of  July  was  celebrated  with  appropriate  exercises.  The 
stars  and  stripes  floated  gayly  from  our  staff,  and  the  cabins  were  decked  with 
Inmting  and  small  flags.  At  night,  the  farmers  and  woodsmen,  with  their  sisters, 
cousins,  aunts,  and  sweethearts,  began  to  swarm  down  upon  us  and  lined  the 
lake  shore.  Our  fireworks  were  set  off  from  a  scow  anchored  one  hundred  yards 
from  land,  and  tlie  effect  was  fine. 

Sunday  morning  l>reakfasts  were  after  the  most  ai)pr(>ved  New  England 
fashion, —  baked  beans,  brown  bread,  fishballs.  and  chocolatt'.  Everybody  was 
expected  to  writi;  a  lctt<'r  liome  during  the  forenoon.     After  dinner  came  tlie 


A    BOYS'    CAMP 


263 


The  chapel. 


choir  rehearsal,  followed  hy  a  four  o'clock  service  in  a  i)icturesqiie  little  openiug: 
in  the  woods  which  nature  seemed  to  have  designed  for  a  chapel.  There  rough 
benches  had  been  made  under  the  shadowy  trees,  and  the  sylvan  chancel  had 
been  carpeted  with  moss.  At  the  back  of  the  chancel,  stood  a  great  rude  cross, 
outlined  boldly  against  the  somber  background  of  dense  forest;  and  directly 
before  us  was  a  rustic  pulpit.  Our  Sunday  service  in  this  woodland  sanctuary 
was  attended  by  large  numbers  of  strangers,  many  driving  a  distance  of  twelve 
or  fifteen  miles.  One  of  the  masters  acted  as  the  minister  and  read  the  ser\nce 
of  the  Episcopal  Church.  The  chants  and  a  familiar  hymn  were  sung  to  a  violin 
accompaniment.     Then  came  a  short  address. 


264  BOYS'  HOOK   OF  SI' OUTS. 

A  collection  was  always  taken  up  in  l)i'lialf  of  the  C'liarityFund,  which,  at  the 
end  of  the  season,  the  boys  voted  to  divide  between  the  Sheltering  Arms  Nursery 
of  Brooklyn  and  the  Boys'  Home  in  Boston. 

The  nniil  arrived  at  noon  and  sunset  each  day,  being In-ought  by  ''the  captain," 
an  aged  member  of  an  historic  New  Hampshire  family.  The  captain  was  often 
accompanied  by  his  good  wife.  She  w^as  a  motherly  creature,  and  both  were 
prime  favorites  at  camp.  The  captain  had  served  his  country  in  the  war,  and 
had  many  a  yarn  to  spin. 

The  camp  dog  was  a  splendid  Newfoundland  named  Duke,  and  he  was  the 
champion  swimmer.  Two  of  the  campers  had  cameras  and  t(M)k  photographs, 
which  they  sold  at  good  profit. 

We  were  often  visited  by  city  people  boarding  at  some  one  of  the  farm-houses 
within  a  radius  of  ten  or  twelve  miles.  Some  of  these  visitors  (^ame  often,  and 
apparently  found  considerable  satisfaction  in  observing  the  details  of  camp  life. 
Some  of  us  knew  a  number  of  Boston  and  New  York  people  at  one  of  the  most 
popular  of  these  boarding-houses,  and  one  day  these  friends  gave  us  a  most 
enjoyable  entertainment,  consisting  of  a  lawn-party,  a  tennis  tournament,  and 
a  supper.  At  another  time,  we  went  to  a  sheet-and-pillow-case  party  at  the 
same  place.  Later  on,  some  friends  at  another  boarding-house  delighted  us 
wdth  a  series  of  tableaux  and  charades,  followed  T)y  supper. 

Several  business  partnerships  were  formed  among  the  boys.  Contracts  for 
work  were  awarded  to  the  firms  making  the  lowest  bids.  The  successful  bidders 
woidd  hire  other  boys  to  help  them.  The  specifications  had  to  be  strictly 
ol)served.  Among  other  things,  a  new  wharf  was  built,  one  of  the  cabins 
shingled,  and  another  covered  with  tar-paper. 

Boys  could  do  as  they  pleased  with  money  earned  in  this  way.  Idleness  was 
not  popular. 

One  fine  day,  we  took  a  long  tramp  up  Mount  Monadnock,  An  early  start 
was  made,  and  by  noon  we  had  covered  more  than  half  the  distance.  Halt  was 
ordered  in  a  shady  grove,  and  before  long  our  w^agon  arrived  with  blankets, 
rubber  coats,  cooking  utensils,  provisions,  and  various  tools.  We  had  a  sub- 
stantial lunch  while  resting  on  the  banks  of  a  ]n-etty  brook,  before  we  resumed 
our  march. 

We  soon  reached  the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  then  the  climb  began.  But 
it  is  a  long  lane  that  knows  no  turning,  and  rest  came  at  last.  We  drove  stakes 
in  a  picturesque  glen  on  a  plateau  just  below  the  summit,—  a  well-chosen 
spot,  shielded  from  the  wind.  A  bountiful  supply  of  fuel  and  of  pine  boughs 
for  l)edding  was  immediately  secured.  A  fire-place  was  built,  and  our  supper 
soon  l)egan  to  stew  in  a  great  kettle  which  hung  fnmi  a  tripod.  One  of  our 
fiivorite  dishes  was  flapjacks.  Numerous  visitors  came  from  the  fashionable  hotel 
<lown  the  mountain,  where,  the  next  evening,  an  impromptu  cntertainnuMit  was 
givt'U   to   us.    AVr    wen-   on    tlic   mountain    three   days,    and   tliey  were   full  of 


A     BOYS'    CAMP. 


20;' 


Ldiupin^  out  on  Mouut  ftl  n  ulnoek 


incident  and  pleasure.  At  ni<?ht,  we  slept  avound  tlie  blazing  log:s,  and  two  boys 
were  assigned  to  stand  watch  each  hour,  so  that  no  one  was  d(^prived  of  much 
sleo]).  Every  fellow  washed  his  own  plate,  cup,  knife,  and  spoon  after  each 
nu'al,  and  submitted  them  for  inspection  to  one  of  the  boys  who  acted  as 
assistant-master.  We  all  were  sorry  to  leave  the  old  mountain.  But  it  was 
good  to  plant  foot  once  more  upon  our  native  heath.  And  Camp  Harvard  was 
always  dearer  than  ever  when  we  returned  to  it  after  such  an  expedition. 

Until  he  could  swim  a  certain  distance,  no  camper  was  allowed  in  the  boats= 
All  of  the  boys  were  soon  quite  at  home  in  and  on  the  water.  One  of  the  Phila- 
delphia boys  made  the  best  mile  record.     There  M^ere  various  organizations  in 


26G  BOYS'   BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 

cainp,  such  as  cricket,  basc-liall,  tennis,  and  rowing:  clubs,  and  a  society  of 
naturalists.  Then  there  were  various  conindttees.  The  steward  of  the  Charity 
Fund  was  very  energetic,  and  before  we  broke  up  cam}),  he  had  collected  a  great 
quantity  of  used  clothing,  which  we  voted  to  divide  between  the  newsboys  of 
New  York  and  Boston. 

On  August  18th  and  14th  came  the  annual  athletic  meeting.  There  were  all  sorts 
of  exercises,  with  first  and  second  prizes  in  each,  and  entries  closed  on  the  12th. 
Crowds  of  visitors  came  each  day.  The  tennis  tournament  was  hotly  contested 
in  both  singles  and  doubles,  but  the  boat-races  and  tng-of-war  were  the  most 
exciting  events.  Long  and  short  distance  walking  and  running;  sack  and 
obstacle  races;  throwing  the  hammer;  climbing;  running,  standing,  and  broad 
jumps;  diving;  swimming  contests, —  all  were  included  in  the  programme.  On 
the  night  of  the  14th  we  entertained  a  large  company  of  visitors  at  supper,  and 
a  lady  very  gracefully  presented  the  prizes.  Then  followed  fireworks  and 
music.  I  had  won  either  first  or  second  prizes  in  several  events,  and  experienced 
the  proud  distinction  of  having  my  name  telegraphed  to  a  Boston  paper,  whose 
editor  was  rusticating  near  by.  Some  of  the  records  were  very  good,  consider- 
ing that  the  boys,  with  the  single  exception  of  myself,  were  only  from  ten  to 
fourteen  years  old. 

There  was  not  a  single  case  of  serious  accident  or  illness  for  the  camp  diarj- 
to  record.  We  were  all  healthily  bronzed,  and  were  as  hardy  as  only  life  in  the 
open  air  can  make  boys;  and  I  am  sure  that  camp  life  enabled  us  all  to  do  better 
work  at  school  during  the  winter. 

We  broke  camp  on  the  morning  of  September  1.  The  night  before,  we  had 
as  guests  our  neighbors  for  miles  aroujid.  Our  good  friends  the  Deacon  and  the 
Captain  each  made  touching  speeches,  and  the  camp  resounded  again  and  again 
with  three  times  three  "  'rahs  "  for  them  and  other  summer  friends,  each  named 
in  turn.  The  night  was  very  cold,  but  every  heart  was  warm.  Sky-rockets  shot 
through  the  air;  bombs,  flower-pots,  and  other  fireworks  exploded,  and  Lake 
Monomonock  looked  almost  like  a  sheet  of  fire.  Then  amid  this  blaze  of  glory 
our  guests  departed  to  the  tune  of  our  favorite  song.  Lake  Monomonock  settled 
down  to  its  somber  stillness;  old  cloud-capped  JNIonadnock  loomed  above  us  like 
the  great  pyramid,  and  now  came  a  realizing  sense  of  the  sad  parting  which  the 
morrow  threatened  to  bring  us. 

Morning  came  at  last.  The  wind  blew  fresh  and  made  the  air  as  clear  as 
crystal.  Four-horse  teams  were  in  readiness,  horns  were  produced,  and,  with 
one  long  last  look,  off  we  started.  Our  woodland  home  never  seemed  so  fair 
as  when  we  turned  our  faces  away  from  it.  Those  fragrant  pine-trees  had  heard 
boys  cheer  befor(%  but  never  until  now  with  such  lusty  vigor  and  manifest  feel- 
ing had  e()7iie  fortli  that  ins])iring  wat<-h-cry  of : 

''  'Rah  !  "rail  !  'rah  !  'Unh  !  'rali  !  'rah  !  'Kah  !  'rah  !  'rah  !  Camp  Hauvard  !  " 


SWIMMIXG  AXD   WALKING. 


"IVilt  thou,  Cassius,  leap  with  iiw  into  this  angr_}'  flood  ami  swim  to joudct  point?" 

Shakspere. 


A  TALK  ABOUT  SWIMMING 


By  Saxfori)  11  Hrxr. 


HAXGIXd  ill  the  shrouds  of  a  siukiiii;  shi[)  on  a  wild  November  afternoon, 
the  eug'iue-rooiii  flooded  from  the  leak,  the  steam-pumps  not  able  to  work, 
my  baek  tortured  beyond  endurance  with  hard  labor  at  the  levers  of  the  hand- 
pump,  the  deck  swept  by  the  bursting  seas,  a  wild  and  angry  sky  above,  the  lee 
shore  perfectly  horrible  in  the  tempest  of  its  waves  and  the  thunder  of  the  surf 
that  went  rolling  and  charging  by  squadrons  of  billows  over  a  half  mile  of  low 
sandy  bottom,  I  asked  myself  whether,  if  the  ship  broke  up,  I  could  man- 
age the  under-tow, —  that  merciless  drag  backward  of  the  sea,  the  topmost  wave 
washing  the  swimmer  illusively  toward  the  shore,  the  undermost  sucking  him 
down  and  out.  I  answered  myself  with  an  emphatic  "Yes!"  But  the  experiment 
was  spared  me,  and  I  got  ashore  next  morning  in  a  life-boat.     Ever  since  that 


270 


HOYS'  HOOK  OF  spoirrs. 


The  proper  position. 


awful  hour  and  niglit,  I  liave  had  a  sincere  respect  for  the  science  and  art  of  swim- 
ming, in  which,  next  to  God,  then  rested  all  my  hope  and  trust. 

But,  before  we  talk  about  fighting  an  under-tow  in  a  wicked  sea-way,  let 
us  discuss  the  princi- 
ples and  methods  of  \  -j^'  ^  /-^ 
swimming.  To  drown 
in  a  river,  with  the 
shore  only  a  few 
yards  away,  when  any 
dog  or  donkey  would 
reach  the  land,  must 
involve  a  feeling  of 
l)ersonal  humiliation 
as  well  as  despair.  To 
be  self- trustworthy  is 
the  first  thing  in  mo- 
ments of  danger;  but 
the  art  of  swimming  has  a  high  value  in  the  saving  of  other  lives,  and  is,  be- 
sides, a  luxury  and  accomplishment  worth  the  having,  for  the  mere  fun  of  the 
thing.     In  our  civilization,  swimming  is  an  acquired   accomplishment.     It  is 

understood  to  be  a  natural  function  with  nearly 
all  kinds  of  animals,  human  lieings  forming  the 
leading  exception.  The  inability  to  swim  is  in 
all  cases  a  defect  of  education.  If  we  do  not 
know  already,  let  us  learn  how. 

To  an  expert  swimmer,  sinking  is  impossible, 
except  from  cramp  or  exhaustion.  The  weight 
of  a  human  body  is  just  about  that  of  the  water 
it  displaces;  but  the  body  weight  is  unevenly 
distributed,  the  lungs  being  the  bladder  and 
the  head  the  sinker, —  so  that  the  first  I'ule  in 
swimming  is  to  keep  the  head  well  back  on  the 
shoulders,  where  it  will  rest  immediately  above 
the  lungs.  But,  l)efore  this,  the  beginner  should 
observe  a  few  rules  of  safety. 

Get  accustomed  to  the  shock  of  watei-.  Wade 
slowly  into  a  smooth  shallow  place,  turn  and 
face  toward  the  shore,  duck  under  in  water  deep 
enough  to  cover  the  body,  get  your  head  wet, 
hold  your  breath  when  under,  snort  as  you 
come  to  the  air  again,  resisting  the  inclinatiim 
to  breathe  in  first;  and  then,  in  a  depth  of  a 


A    TALK  Aliorr  SWIMMISd. 


271 


foot  or  two,  lie  down,  face  downward,  and  touch  the  tijjs  of  your  fingers  on 
the  bed  of  the  stream.  You  will  find  that  a  very  slight  lift,  hardly  two  ounces, 
will  keep  yoiii- lirad  afloat,  but  not  your  heels.  Use  them  as  oars.  Drop  <mt 
backward  iutcj  deeper  water,  walking  on  your  finger-tips,  and  you  will  find  that 
the  more  of  your  body  is  under  water  the  less  weight  you  have  to  carry.  The  only 
parts  to  keep  in  the  air  are  your  lips  and  nostrils.  Make  these  the  only  exposed 
surface;  hollow  your  loins,  and  cai-iy  your  head  well  back,  so  as  to  have  it  per- 
pendicular to  the  lungs. 

All  this  is  mere  paddling  ;  l)ut  you  will  soon  find  that  keeping  afloat  is  no 
trouble,  unless  you  keep  too  high  and  try  to  swim  as  much  in  the  air  as  in  the 
water.  You  must  remember  that  you  have  to  displace  as  much  weight  of  water 
as  the  weight  of  your  own  body.  You  can  not  walk  upon  the  waves  or  climb 
out  of  them  without  a  support.  In  swimming  you  must  lie  low.  The  legs  should 
be  well  under,  and  so 
should  the  hands.  The  -,,;*^j^-, 

attitude   should  T)e  as  "  :~-'^f^I^ a"  '^     ^ 

in  the  first  illustration, 
—  the  ehin  in  the  wa- 
ter, the  legs  at  an 
angle  of  thirty-three 
degrees.  The  theory 
is  that  you  should  use 
the  feet  as  a  counter- 
])oise  to  the  head, —  the 
chest,  the  buoyant  part 
of  the  body,  being  the 
fulcrum  of  the  lever. 
If  your  heels  go  up,  your  head  will  go  down.  Noav  stop  paddling,  abandon 
the  grip  of  your  hands  on  the  bottom,  keep  your  head  toward  the  shore,  and 
strike  out.  The  first  illustration  will  show  the  attitude.  Two  feet  depth  of 
water  is  enough  for  the  lesson. 

Keep  both  hands  well  underwater.  You  can't  swim  in  the  air.  Hold  your 
fingers  together,  the  palms  of  the  hands  slightly  hollowed,  the  head  well  back, 
the  chest  inflated,  and  strike  with  all  four  lim])s  in  nnison  of  movement.  The 
hands  and  feet  will  act  as  propellers,  the  hands  moving  backward  and  down- 
ward as  low  as  the  hips,  and  well  outside  of  the  body,  the  feet  di-awing  together 
and  pushing  down  at  the  same  moment.  Give  fidl  spread  to  y<mr  hands  and 
feet.  Their  resistance  to  the  w^ater  is  your  propelling  force.  Then  gather,  frog 
fashion,  and  repeat  the  motion.  You  rid  yourself  of  flic  sense  of  dany-er  by 
keeping  in_  shallow  water  and  striking  toward  shore. 

Work  in  that  way  awhile,  and  the  temptation  will  l)e  iri-esistil)le  to  swim  from 
shore;  but  this  should  be  very  cautiously  indulged  until  you  feel  sure  of  yourself. 


Floating. 


BOYS'    Ii(K)K    OF  srOliTS. 


Wheu  you  liavo  tlius  leariiod  to  swim  a  half-dozen  strokes,  all  of  tin-  rest  is 
mere  practice  in  a  delightful  school,  where  there  is  more  fun  than  work.  Water 
frolics  are  high  sport,  and  the  best  frolic  of  all  is  a  good  dive. 

The  fun  of  a  good  dive  is  fun  indeed.  I  have  often  ''  fetched  bottom "  at 
fifteen  feet,  and  brought  up  a  big  stone  to  prove  to  my  comrades  that  I  had 
been  ''clean  down."  But  once,  in  water  like  crystal,  in  the  Upper  Lakes,  where 
the  pebl)les  could  be  seen  at  the  bottom,  I  came  rushing  up  with  my  head  crack- 
ing, and  saw  an  old  fellow  grinuing  at  me.  I  hung  breathless  to  a  wharf -pile, 
and  he  casually  informed  me  that  the  water  was  twenty-six  feet  deep,  "  thar'  or 
thar'-abouts." 

Jumping  from  a  height  is  a  doubtful  jol).  Recollect  that  in  everything  con- 
nected with  swimming  you  are  top-heavy,  and  that  water  is  incompressible.  If 
you  get  oif  your  balance  while  dropping,  and  fall  on  your  side,  either  you  will 
be  drowned  or  your  mother  will  need,  next  day,  all  the  cold  cream  in  the 
neighborhood.  I  have  painful  recollections  on  that  subject.  Two  days  in  bed 
and  a  maternal  lecture  of  the  same  length  were  too  much  to  pay  for  that  one 
dizzy,  sidewise  rush  through  the  air.  If  I  had  taken  my  leaden  head  for  a  plum- 
met, I  should  have  been  spared  the  blisters 
on  my  body.    I  ought  to  have  dived. 

*'  Floating "  is  the  best  illustration  of  the 
real  buoyancy  of  the  human  body.  It  needs 
only  self-possession  and  still  water.  There  are 
two  attitudes,  one  of  which  seems  the  more 
scientific,  but  which  I  never  worked  with 
any  considerable  success.  It  is  accurately 
shown  in  the  illustration  on  page  271.  The 
position  pictured  therein  is  theoretically  cor- 
rect. I  have  seen  such  floating  done  Mdth- 
out  the  motion  of  a  muscle,  except  as  the 
lungs  were  kept  inflated.  Only  the  mouth  and 
nostrils  are  out  of  water,  and  the  arms,  ex- 
tended backward,  balance  the  legs,  the  lungs 
being  at  the  fulcrum.  But,  as  a  personal  habit, 
I  float  better  with  my  legs  deeper  in  the  water, 
and  my  hands  wrapped  under  the  small  of  my 
back,  the  body  in  a  semi-per])endicular  posi- 
tion. You  have  plenty  of  time  to  bi-catlie  if 
you  are  only  self-confident. 

In  ''treading  water''  there  is  a  nice  illustra- 
)f  buoyancy.  It  is  a  great  rest  sometimes.  The  propulsive  force  of  the 
of  the  soles  of  the  feet  against  the  water  beh)W  them.  Avith  the  buoyant 


Treading  water. 


tion 
trca 


power  of  the  lungs  supporting  the  head  ])erpendicularly  above  them,  carry  the 


A    TALK   AlKH'T  SWIMMING. 


273 


"  He  inforiiicd  me  tliut  tlic  water  was  twenty-six  feet  deep." 

head  clear  out  of  tlie  water,  and  make  a  lazy  but  seeure  support.  The  hands 
should  rest  quietly  on  the  hips,  as  shown  in  the  illustration.  There  are  a 
dozen  other  feats  in  swinmiiiig,  such  as  swinuning  on  the  hack,  which  is  lazier 
than  any  other  method. 

LiFF,  Rescue. 

Tlie  true  i)lan  to  follow,  when  safety  is  tlie  call,  is  to  swim  with  everything 
below  th(^  chin  well  down  under  water,  the  head  well  back  and  resting  centrally 
on  the  floating  power  of  the  lungs.     But  what  will  you  do  when  your  comrade 

18 


274 


BOYS'   HOOK   OF   SPORTS. 


is  tired  out  and  drowning?  That  depends.  If  lie  is  eool  and  reliable,  get  in 
front  of  him,  let  liiin  place  his  hands  on  your  hips  (not  j'our  shoidders),  and  you 
can  carry  him  quite  a  distance.     That  supposes  that  both  parties,  rescued  and 


baving  a  companion. 

rescuer,  understand  fair  play.  The  weaker  party  is  the  one  that  ought  to 
drown,  if  he  shows  any  disposition  to  drown  his  friend  by  a  miserable,  cowardly 
death-clutch  at  the  only  floating  thing  around  him.  In  the  case  of  the  death- 
clutch,  go  to  the  bottom  with  your  man  and  leave  him  there.  There  may  be  an 
unpleasant  wrestle,  but  the  real  di-owning  man  is  ready  to  quit  his  prey  when 
he  strikes  bottom.  The  better  man  has  his  right  to  come  to  the  surface  and  swim 
ashore. 

But  from  a  considerable  swimming  experience,  and  some  rescues,  there  comes 
one  absolute  rule :  Never  face  a  drowning  man.  He  welcomes  rescue  so  eagerly 
that  he  will  hug  you  around  the  neck  and  take  you  down.  The  safest  and  best 
thing  to  do  is  to  get  behind  him,  and,  unless  you  are  left-handed,  put  your  left 
hand  under  his  right  arm-pit.  The  lift  you  give  him  will  be  enough  in  ordinary 
water.  He  can  ])e  coaxed  to  help  himself,  and  if  he  is  a  reasonable  being  you 
can  bring  him  to  shore.  If  lie  is  insane  with  fright,  recollect  that  you  are  to  be 
))oth  prudent  and  heroic.     (Jet  away  from  him.  clutch  his  ankle  with  one  hand 


A    TALK  AliOlT  SWIMMISC.  Zt.) 

and  tow  hiiii  ashore.  Jf  tlic  l);iuk  is  iicai",  lie  is  not  likdy  to  drown  on  llic  way. 
If  lie  does,  it  is  not  your  fault.  But  a  brave  swiniiner  is  master  of  his  eh-nient. 
I  saw  two  lads  —  I  saw  oue  of  them,  at  least — earry  a  companion,  who  eould 
not  swim,  across  a  deep,  broad  and  rapid  river,  just  for  a  frolic.  It  was  a  reck- 
less thing  to  do,  and  the  three  were  used  up  when  they  staggered  to  the  shore. 
They  recrossed  from  a  point  up  the  river,  where  they  found  a  good  light  pine 
slab,  and  towed  John  across  on  that. 

But  those  same  two  young  scamps  once  rescued  a  drowning  comrade  in  a  way 
that  was  remarkable  for  its  neatness.  The  poor  fellow  was  in  mid-stream, 
cramped  and  exhausted,  and  barely  able  to  keep  afloat.  Who  was  first  to  the  rescue 
was  never  decided,  but  in  the  critical  moment  each  was  behind  him,  each  with  a 
hand  under  an  arm-pit ;  he  was  ahnost  a  dead- weight  on  their  hands,  and  they 
swam  him  ashore,  more  dead  than  alive.  It  was  a  struggle,  but  they  were 
masters  of  the  sitiuxtion. 

The  Under-tow. 

I  began  this  gossip  first  with  a  menti<m  of  the  under-tow.  It  is  by  no  means 
a  "  phenomenon,'/  but  something  to  be  read  up  and  studied.  Either  on  the  sea- 
beach  or  at  the  great  lakes,  all  the  water  that  is  tumbled  ashore  in  heavy  waves 
must  go  back  again.  The  top-sea  rolls  in,  and  the  under-sea  rolls  out.  Trust  to 
the  former.  Keep  clear  afloat  and  as  high  as  you  can.  Abandon  the  rule  I  have 
given  you  about  deep  swimming.  Secure  the  friendship  of  the  shoreward  wave. 
Otherwise,  if,  when  you  are  within  ten  feet  of  shore  and  safety,  you  drop  your 


legs  to  the  angle  of  thirty-three  degrees,  which  is  the  deep-swimming  position, 
you  will  find  that  the  under-tow — the  under  water  that  flows  out  to  replace  the 
waves  that  run  in  —  will  grab  you  by  the  ankles  and  })ull  you  out  and  down 
again.    Keep  clear  afloat,  your  head  well  down,  your  heels  feeling  the  topmost 


27G  BOW"^'   BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 

part  of  the  imiK'lliii<i;  waw;  \kvv\)  your  liiiig\s  well  lilled,  and  wash  a.sh(jro.  You 
are  not  safe  until  you  can  easily  fasten  your  hands  in  the  sand  or  gravel  and  pull 
yourself  to  land.  But  in  shallow  water,  with  a  long-  surf  rolling  in  behind  yon, 
the  drag  of  the  under-tow  can  only  be  avoided  by  swimming  high  and  letting 
the  waves  ''  buck  "  you  in.  The  rules  for  still- water  and  rapid  river  currents,  in 
which  deep  swimming  is  safety,  do  not  apply  in  mastering  an  under-tow.  Swim 
shallow  and  trust  the  topmost  w^ave. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  add  a  word  about  ice  rescue,  where  a  fellow  skating  on 
thin  ice  breaks  through,  and  heading  toward  shore  with  a  pair  of  skates  on  his 
heels,  cracks  off  successive  chunks  of  ice  until  he  is  surrounded  by  them.  It  is 
the  coldest  kind  of  a  baptism,  and  the  hardest  kind  of  a  rescue.  I  was  an 
actor  in  one  when  a  college  chum  "  slumped"  through.  The  ice  was  unsafe, 
and  we  fished  him  out  by  knocking  off  fence-boards,  sliding  them  out,  lying  face- 
downward  on  the  boards,  other  fence-boards  being  slid  out  to  us.  He  caught 
hold  of  one,  climbed  to  the  surface  of  the  ice  with  the  ready  skill  of  a  practiced 
swimmer,  and  said,  with  rattling  teeth  in  the  zero  atmosphere  :  "  Well,  fellows, 
vou  did  that  nicelv  ! "  The  remai-k  lacked  pathos,  perhaps,  l)ut  it  was  literally  true. 


WALKING  AND  RIDING. 


By  Ciiaklks  jNI.  Skixnek. 


w 


subject  for-  thought  that  there  are  some  who  will  express 
surprise  at  finding  it  classed  among  enjoyable  exercises  and 
amusements.  Yet  its  very  simplicity  and  ease  ought  to  com- 
mend it  to  everybody  in  health,  and  to  recommend  it  with 
the  gi-eater  urgency  to  those  in  want  of  health.  The  most 
independent  traveler  in  the  world  is  he  who  goes  upon  a  x)air 
of  stout  legs.  Trains  may  be  delayed,  stage  coaches  may  break 
down,  horses  may  go  lame,  the  high  road  may  be  heavy  with 
mud;  but  the  walker  may  travel  on,  if  he  pays  his  reckoning 
as  he  goes.  Railroads  and  steam-boats  are  by  no  means  to  be 
despised ;  they  are  making  the  world  spin  faster  thau  ever  it 
spun  before ;  but  they  serve  the  means  and  not  the  ends  of 
travel.  The  ends  of  ti-avel  are  instruction  and  enjoyment,  and  the  closer  our 
relation  to  the  things  that  teach  or  amuse  us  the  more  benefit  will  be  derived 
from  them.  A  twenty-mile  walk  through  a  characteristic  portion  of  a  country 
will  give  a  truer  idea  of  its  scenery,  people,  language,  manners,  customs, 
religion  and  social  condition  than  we  can  obtain  by  riding  across  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  of  it  in  an  express  train.  Little  preparation  is  required  for  a 
walking  excursion,  but  to  enable  the  young  traveler  to  pursue  his  journey  with 
as  much  ease  and  enjoyment  as  possible,  the  following  suggestions  are  offered : 
When  you  have  resolved  on  a  vacation  tramp,  lay  out  your  route  by  the  aid  of 
atlases  and  guide  books,  make  a  table  of  approximate  expenditures,  decide  how 
long  you  will  stop  at  given  points,  arrange  for  receiving  your  letters  from  home 
at  certain  dates  and  places,  and  adhere  to  these  conditions  as  strictly  as  possible. 
Begin  practice,  too,  at  once,  by  walking  every  day  and  slowly  increasing  the 
speed  and  tlie  distance  trnverscHl.     An  hour  or  two  of  steady  walking,  morning 


278 


BOYS'  BOOK    OF  SPORTS. 


WJ^^Brnm^t^ 

JW 

aud  eveninji:,  will  toutrhfii  your  mu.s<'les,  improve  your  '•  wind/'  and  ^ive  you  a 
zest  for  what  is  to  come.  Your  walk  will,  i)erliaps,  be  most  instructive  if  taken 
alone,  for  nature  will  then  claim  your  exclusive  attention;  but  if  you  are  to  be 
one  of  a  i)ai-ty,  it  will  be  well  for  all  of  you  to  take  your  training  together,  in 

order  that  there  may  be  some  uniformity 
of  speed  aud  endurance  among  the 
company.  When  on  the  road  some  will 
probably  complain  of  the  slowness  of 
others,  who  in  turn  will  grumble  at 
being  hurried  along  too  fast.  For 
steady  walking,  it  is  quite  enough  that 
you  cover  three  miles  an  hour,  and  that 
you  are  afoot  ten  hours  a  day. 

Carry  but  little  freight.  Some  walk- 
ers travel  with  a  huge  valise  that  they 
send  by  express  from  town  to  town,  but 
they  are  less  independent  than  he  whose 
supplies  are  carried  with  him ;  and  I 
have  heard  of  others  who  have  seen  fit 
to  carry  on  then*  backs  full  changes  of 
linen,  slippers,  clothes-brushes,  blacking, 
shawls,  and  overcoats.  I  once  traveled 
afoot  partly  through  Germany  with  a  young  American  who  was  a  perspiring 
martyr  to  a  40-pound  valise  and  a  bundle  of  wi-aps. 

I  will  set  forth  my  whole  equipment,  and  you  can  adapt  it  to  your  wishes  and 
circumstances.  It  is  what  I  carried  on  three  long  tours  in  America  and  one  in 
Europe,  aggregating  about  twenty  thousand  miles, —  not  all  traveled  on  foot,  of 
course, —  and  I  found  little  need  of  anything  else  : 

Dress:  gauze  undershirt ;  v^^r/?///^' flannel  shirt ;  stockings:  soft  hat;  trousers, 
vest  and  coat  of  gray ;  shoes,  "  Waukeu])hast "  pattern. 

In  the  pockets:  handkerchief;  knife;  watch;  pencils;  tooth-picks;  note-book; 
sketch-book  ;  book  for  rainy-day  leading ;  money. 
In  the  hand :  a  stout  stick. 

By  the  side,  suspended  by  a  strap  from  the  shoulder:  a  leather  satchel  about  a 
foot  long,  in  which  is  placed  a  gossamer  rubber  overcoat;  nightgown;  collar; 
scarf;  coUar-lmttons ;  telescope  drinking-cup;  comb;  tooth-brush;  postal  cards; 
maps  and  guide  books. 

There !  If  you  don't  burden  yourself  with  more  than  that,  I  will  giuirantee 
that  if  you  break  down  by  the  way  it  will  not  be  on  account  of  the  load  you 
carry.  Still,  as  you  proceed,  these  things  will  weigh  more  than  they  did  w^lien 
you  started.  It  will  surprise  you  to  discover  how  much  more  a  pound  weighs 
before  supper  than  it  did  aftei-  breakfast.  You  will  doubtless  aecumulat<',  as  you 


How  far.  did  you  say?' 


WALKI\(;    AM)    ini)lN(r. 


279 


proceed,  letters,  paini)lil('ts,  pliotdiiTaplis,  pivsscd  llowcrs,  minerals,  and  sueh 
like,  but  as  soon  as  you  have  a  bateli  of  tliciii,  inclose  tliem  in  l)<>xcs  or  envelopes 
and  mail  or  express  tlieni  to  your  home  address. 

We  have  so  far  departed  from  the  habits  of  our  early  ancestors  that  most  of 
us  prefer  warm  beds  and  warm  dinners  to  couches  of  dry  leaves  and  repasts  of 
herbs  and  berries,  and  unless  the  y<)un<i^  tourist  is  of  strong  fiber  and  stronger 
imagination,  he  will  enjoy  himself  better  if  he  puts  up  in  hotels,  taverns,  farm- 
houses, or  barns  (if  he  comes  to  that),  than  he  will  if  he  sleeps  in  woods  and 
pastures  and  picks  his  nutriment  from  trees  and  shrubs.  The  weather  is  dread- 
fully heedless,  even  of  seasoned  tramps,  and  the  apple,  nut  and  berry  crops  are 
not  always  abundant.  As  you  may  find  it  necessary  to  practice  economy,  how- 
ever, it  is  advisable  not  to  put  up  at  large  hotels,  or  to  dine  at  expensive 
restaurants.  So  arrange  your  trip  as  not  to  stop  at  night  in  cities,  unless  you 
wish  to  spend  some  time  in 
them,  but  pass  on  to  the 
villages  and  lodge  at  the 
taverns;  inquire  the  rates 
wherever  you  stop,  and  pay 
before  going  to  your  room ; 
make  sure,  before  going  to 
l)ed,  that  you  can  find  your 
way  out  in  case  of  fire ;  leave 
your  window  partly  open,  for 
country  houses  are  poorly 
ventilated,  as  a  rule ;  deposit 
your  valuables  with  the  land- 
lord, if  he  has  a  safe ;  if  not, 
place  them  under  your  pil- 
low ;  memorize  a  list  of  your 
belongings  and  run  through 
it,  on  leaving  the  hotel,  to 
satisfy  yourself  that  you 
have  forgotten  nothing ;  if 
you  stop  in  a  large  city 
where  you  intend  to  devote 
your  time  to  sight-seeing, 
engage  rooms  at  a  hotel  kept 
on  the  European  ])lan,  pro-  ^"  inviting  gate^vMy. 

curing  your  meals  in  whatever  part  of  the  city  you  happen  to  be  when  you  are 
hungry.  In  case  you  are  lost,  benighted,  or  find  the  hotels  crowded,  food  and 
lodging  may  usually  l)e  obtained  at  farm-houses,  but  payment  should  always  be 
made  to  those  whose  hospitality  you  share,  even  if  you  have  to  sleep  in  the 


280  •  BOYS'   BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

l)ai-ii, —  no  ^rciit  privutioii  if  the  liuv-niow  is  well  filled.  If  night  eomes  on 
when  you  are  far  from  any  habitation,  make  for  a  spaee  l)eueath  a  tree,  or  a 
sheltered  nook  among  bnshes  or  haystacks,  first  beating  about  the  place  Avith 
yt)ur  cane  to  drive  away  possible  snakes.  Stamp  down  excrescences  in  the  soil, 
and  if  you  can  dig  or  kick  out  a  little  hollow  for  your  hip  to  rest  in,  and 
another  for  your  shoulder,  so  much  the  better.  Partly  unlace  your  shoes,  to 
ease  your  feet,  loosen  your  shirt  at  the  throat  and  your  trousers  at  the  waist, 
put  your  watch,  knife,  etc.,  into  pockets  where  they  will  not  press  into  your 
flesh,  button  your  coat  to  your  chin,  use  your  satchel  or  a  heap  of  leaves  for  a 
pillow,  spread  yom- rubber  coat  over  you, —  and  good  luck  attend  your  efforts  to 
get  to  sleep.  You  can  do  it  with  practice.  Be  sure,  in  the  morning,  that  you 
have  lost  nothing  from  your  pockets. 

Bathe  frequently,  if  the  season  is  warm  and  the  i)onds  and  rivei-s  pure  and  safe. 
and  wash  the  feet  every  night  before  going  to  bed.  If  the  shoes  hurt  your  feet, 
soap  your  stockings.  Chafing  can  be  prevented  or  relieved  by  apphing  lard, 
oil,  or  vaseline  to  the  irritated  surface.  Shake  the  dust  out  of  your  clothing  on 
taking  it  off,  and  let  it  air  all  night.  Wear  nothing  to  bed  but  a  nightgown, 
and  ail'  that  on  taking  it  out  of  the  satchel  and  before  putting  it  back.  If  thf 
nightgown  be  arranged  with  a  collar,  a  tie  can  be  attached  and  it  can  be  worn 
during  the  day,  when  the  flannel  shirt  is  being  washed.  Stockings  are  hardly 
worth  duplicating  in  your  baggage,  as  you  can  wash  them  at  night  and  allow 
them  to  dry,  and  when  they  are  worn  out,  a  cheap  pair  may  be  bought  at  any 
country  store.  Your  clothing  should  be  strong  and  easy ;  you  can  wear  out  old 
clothes  very  successfully  on  a  tramp.  Shoes  should  be  water-proof,  ample  in 
size,  with  soft  uppers  and  stout  soles.  Steel  pegs  or  hob-nails  will  not  disqualify 
them  from  use  in  roads  and  fields,  but  steel  wears  smooth  and  becomes  so  slip- 
pery as  to  make  w^alking  on  flagstone  sidewalks  and  mountain  ledges  troublesome 
and  dangerous. 

Boys  have  a  fondness  for  fire-arms,  and  most  of  them  in  going  on  a  tramp 
wish  to  include  a  pistol.  Don't  do  it.  You  are  liable  to  hurt  other  people  if 
you  don't  hurt  yourself,  and  you  may  fall  into  ti-ouble  through  shooting  some 
honest  farmer's  pigs  or  poultry.  Your  stick  will  be  defense  enough  in  civilized 
regions,  and  in  a  wild  country  you  require  a  bigger  "  shooting-iron  "  than  a 
pistol.  If,  in  the  mountains,  you  encounter  a  bear,  jump  up  and  down  and  yell, 
and  the  bear  will  be  as  well  scared  as  you  are.  Rattlesnakes  are  the  only  rep- 
tiles that  one  need  look  out  for,  and  they  have  the  honesty  to  spring  their  rattles 
when  they  intend  mischief.  They  are  slow  of  motion  and  can  "  jump "  only 
two-thirds  of  their  own  length,  and  even  at  short  range  are  apt  to  hook  their 
fangs  into  clothing,  leaving  the  object  of  their  spite  unhurt.  They  are  easily 
killed  with  stones  or  sticks.  In  case  of  a  bite  by  a  rattlesnake,  open  the  wound 
with  your  penknife,  letting  it  l)leed  freely,  and  suck  out  the  poison  if  possible; 
th(!n  make  ({uicktimc  to  tlic  nearest  settlement  and  summon  a  doctor.  Fortunately 


Just  the  spot  for  a  nooning. 


282  BOYS'   BOOK    OF  SPOUTS. 

the  localities  of  this  seri)ent  are  pretty  well  defined,  and  he  can  generally  be 
avoided.  There  is  a  more  familiar  pest  that  is  likely  to  make  his  presence  known 
on  your  travels,  and  tliat  is  the  mosqnito.  He  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  I 
know  of  but  one  way  of  keeping  him  off;  that  is,  by  protecting  your  head  and 
neck  with  a  bag  of  gauze  that  covers  the  hat  and  rests  on  the  shoulders.  I  have 
encountered  mosquitoes  in  such  swarms  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  close  to  snow- 
line, that  but  for  one  of  these  bags  I  should  have  been  ^'  eaten  up  alive" — to 
quote  a  popidar  phrase  in  fly-time. 

Suppose,  in  the  course  of  your  jaunt,  you  lose  your  way  in  the  woods.  Don't 
allow  yourself  to  become  excited  and  start  off  at  a  tangent,  because  then  you 
will  waste  your  time  in  walking  around  in  a  circle.  One  leg  is  usually  a  trifle 
stronger  than  the  other,  and  the  strong  leg  takes  longer  steps.  Thus  a  left- 
legged  man  will  walk  entirely  around  his  right  leg  if  he  starts  on  a  walk  through 
the  woods,  and  will  make  a  cii'cle  from  one  to  six  miles  in  circumference.  If  you 
are  lost,  try,  by  noting  the  position  of  the  sun,  or  by  taking  observations  from  a 
rock,  hill  or  tree-top,  to  get  your  bearings,  then  make  your  start.  Suppose  it  is 
late  in  the  afternoon  in  summer,  the  sun  is  in  the  west  and  the  shadows  fall  to 
the  east ;  see,  therefore,  that  you  constantly  cross  the  shadows  of  the  trunks  at 
right  angles,  if  you  are  going  north  or  south,  and  that  they  are  in  a  line  with 
your  path  if  going  east  or  west.  But  suppose  the  sun  is  obscured.  Then,  after 
laying  out  your  course  you  must  maintain  it  by  "ranging"  trees  or  other  objects ; 
that  is,  by  keeping  two  or  three  trees  in  line.  Note  two  trees,  one  a  furlong  from 
you,  and  another  a  furlong  beyond  that,  if  the  forest  is  sufficiently  open  to 
enable  you  to  see  so  far ;  if  not,  then  as  far  as  you  can  see  clearly,  and  walk 
toward  them,  keeping  them  in  line.  As  you  approach  the  nearest  one,  select  a 
third  in  line  with  the  second,  and  as  you  approach  the  second,  '^  range"  a  fourth 
one,  and  so  on.  This  will  keep  you  steadily  on  your  course.  If  the  forest  is 
too  dense  or  difficult  for  even  this,  follow  the  first  watercourse  down  and  go 
with  the  current.  You  are  quite  certain  to  reach  open  country  in  a  little  while. 
If  you  find  it  necessary  or  expedient  to  travel  across  a  broken  and  unfamiliar 
country  by  compass,  proceed  in  the  following  manner :  with  your  map,  or  by 
means  of  observations  from  some  elevated  point,  ascertain  the  direction  in  which 
you  must  proceed.  Your  compass-disk  or  needle  always  points  northward; 
therefore,  by  sighting  a  peak,  or  tree,  or  house,  or  steeple,  in  the  direction  that 
you  must  take,  with  your  compass  in  hand  for  reference,  you  will  see  in  what 
direction  it  lies  from  your  present  stand-point.  Suppose  it  is  west  south-west. 
Turn  the  compass-case  until  the  black  line  inside  comes  opposite  the  initials 
W.  S.  W.,  and  set  out.  There  is  no  need  of  watching  the  compass  all  the  time : 
proceed  on  the  principle  of  ranging.  Notice  a  tree  half  a  mile  west  south-west 
of  you,  and  walk  in  that  direction.  When  you  get  there,  select  some  other  object 
lying  in  your  path  and  aim  toward  that,  proceeding  by  these  stages  until  you 
reach  your  destination. 


UALK/XG  ANT)   lilDINd 


283 


As  to  your  mental  outfit,  tlu'  tri})  will  ])c  (•iijoyal)I('  in  proportion  to  what  you 
get  out  of  it,  and  wliile  it  is  by  no  means  to  be  regarded  as  a  scientific  excursion, 
a  little  knowledge  of  geology,  mineralogy,  and  botany,  will  open  your  eyes  to 

wonders  that  lie  along  every  road- 
side, but  are  unregarded  by  nearly 
every  passer-by.  If  you  are  walk- 
ing in  Eastern  Massachusetts,  up 
tlie  Hudson,  around  Lake  George, 
near  Quebec,  or  over  Southern  bat- 
tle-fields, a  smattering  of  history 
will  give  zest  to  the  tour ;  and  in 
Europe  you  will  see  things  with 
but  half  an  eye  if  you  have  neg- 
lected to  learn  anything  of  its  his- 
tory, art,  and  architecture. 

As  to  routes :  well,  there  is  such 
a  profusion  of  them  in  this  coun- 
try that  it  would  be  easy  to  fill  a 
book  with  suggestions  on  this  sub- 
ject alone.  Mountain  regions  and 
lake  and  river  districts,  that  offer 
diversified  landscapes  and  inspir- 
ing views,  are,  to  most  travelers, 
more  stimulating  than  low  coun- 
tries and  thickly  populated  sec- 
tions. The  New  England  coast, 
from  Cape  Cod  northward,  is  full 
of  scenic  charm,  and  as  the  theater 
of  the  struggles  and  trials  of  the 
pilgrims  it  is  imbued  with  roman- 
tic interest.  The  White  Mountains, 
Green  Mountains,  Catskills,  Adi- 
rondacks,  Berkshire  Hills,  and  even 
the  lesser  extensions  of  the  Alle- 
ghany system,  are  feasible  walk- 
ing-grounds, "v\ath  fair  roads,  good 
inns  and  grand  scenery.  The  val- 
leys of  rivers  like  the  Hudson, 
Delaware,    Connecticut,    Potomac, 


Off  for  a  tramp. 


and  St.  Lawrence ;  the  rude  and  unprogressive  country  lying  about  the  Basin 
of  Minas,  in  Nova  Scotia, —  the  land  of  Evangeline;  the  shores  of  Lakes 
George,  Champlain,  and  Winnepesaukee,  are  warmly  recommended.    Of  course. 


>S4 


BOYS'    HOOK    OF  SI'ONTS. 


A-Xo.v.t~J< 


A  field  fur  exercise. 


our  Rocky  Mouutains  are  the  most  alluring  of  all,  but  to  travel  among  them 
requires  money,  time,  and  a  cumbrous  outfit,  while  experience  is  also  necessary, 
and  a  certain  amount  of  hardship  inevitable.  In  the  next  century  these 
mountains  will  undoubtedly  be  traversed  by  safe  roads,  and  will  abound  in 
good  hotels. 

It  is  greatly  to  l)e  wished  that  our  American  girls  would  indulge  in  pedestrian 
exercise  more  freely  than  they  do.  It  is  no  unusual  thing  in  the  favorite  walk- 
ing-grounds of  England,  such  as  the  Lake  district,  for  instance,  to  meet  a  bevy 
of  British  nuiidens,  each  girl  ])right  of  eye,  rosy  of  cheek,  nnconfined  of  foot 
and  waist,  pacing  briskly  along  the  roads  in  company  with  fathers,  ])i-others,  or 
sweethearts,  and  making  rapturous  comments  on  the  scenci-y.  A  walk  through 
our  Catskills  is  an  exi^ellent  cosmetic. 

As  to  riding  I  have  to  ])lead  slight  experience,  and  while  it  is  exhilarating,  it 
is  also  trammeling,  in  a  measure,  for  the  rider  is  less  free  to  leave  the  road  and 
follow  his  fancy  if  he  is  on  four  feet  than  if  he  were  on  two.  Long  rides  are 
fatiguing  to  the  inexperienced,  and  tlie  walkei-  will  arrive  at  the  end  of  a  twenty- 
iriil<'  tfaiii])  in  ln-ttn- condition  than  the  uiipi-act  iced  I'idcr  wlio  has  travei-sed  that 


\lALKI\(i  AM>  liiDiya. 


2h: 


distance  on  liorscback.  If  one  determines  on  an  equestrian  exeui-sion,  let  liiin 
know  his  liorse  well ;  and  let  the  animal  be  thoroughly  l)roken,  sure-footed,  and 
sound  of  wind.  Nothing  is  more  distressing  than  to  attempt  to  ride  a  lame  or 
broken-winded  animal,  that  will  gallop  or  canter  just  long  enough  to  put  you 
in  the  hunioi-  for  a  good  run,  then,  siiddenly  checking  himself,  lumber  on  at  a 
slow  trot  or  discouraged  walk.  Care  must  be  taken  in  feeding,  watering,  and 
sheltering  your  steed ;  he  must  be  well  groomed,  and  the  saddle  must  be  so 
snugly  adjusted  as  not  to  chafe  his  back.  The  equestrian,  though  he  .should  not 
go  far  from  districts  where  fodder  is  abundant,  has  a  larger  choice  of  routes 
than  the  pedestrian,  because,  in  thinly  settled  countries,  he  can  cover  the  long 
distances  from  settlement  to  settlement,  or  from  one  inn  to  another,  with  more 
certainty, —  a  cii'cumstanee  that  may  stand  him  in  good  stead  when  night  is 
impending  or  a  storm  coming  on.  As  a  field  for  horseback  exercise,  the  ocean- 
like reaches  of  our  Western  plains  are  unrivaled,  despite  a  possibility  that  the 
horse  may  set  foot  in  a  prairie-dog  hole  and  pitch  his  rider  into  a  knot  of  cactus. 
The  immense  expanse,  the  hard  soil,  the  bright  sky  and  bracing  air,  make  exist- 
ence in  the  saddle  a  luxury,  and  it  causes  the  pulse  to  bound  merely  to  see  the 
pictures(pie  cow-boy  on  his  broncho,  skuriying  like  the  wind  to  "  run  in  "  straying 
members  of  his  herd.  It  is  a  question  whether  a  horse  should  be  shod  or  not, 
particularly  a  horse  that  is  used  only  in  country  roads  and  fields.  It  is  held  by 
many  that  the  horseshoe  is  a  useless  and  even  hurtful  contrivance  ;  but  if  it  is 
used,  see  that  your  animal  is  well  shod,  for  loosened  shoes  are  a  common  cause 
of  lameness. 

Whether  you  go  in  the  saddle  or  afoot,  carry  your  money  in  safe  pockets,  or 
in  a  belt  worn  next  to  your  undershirt ;  live  simply  and  temperately,  take  sleep 
enough  ;  rest  at  noon  if  the  day  is  warm  ;  treat  everybody  politely,  but  don't 
be  familiar  on  short  acquaintance.  Don't  fret.  Keep  your  eyes  open  and  your 
courage  up,  and  you  will  gain  in  knowledge,  manhood,  and  self-reliance. 


HOW  TO  RUN. 


By  Theo.  B.  Willson. 


VERY  few  boys  know  how  to  rim. 
"  Ho,  ho  ! ''  say  a  dozen  boys.     ''Just  bring  on  the  boy  that  can  run  faster 
than  I  can  !  " 

But,  stop  a  moment.  I  don't  mean  that  most  boys  can't  run  fast  —  I  mean 
they  can't  run  far.  I  don't  believe  there  is  one  boy  in  fifty,  of  those  who  may 
read  this,  who  can  run  a  quarter  of  a  mile  at  a  good  smart  pace  without  ha\4ng 
to  blow  like  a  porpoise  by  the  time  he  has  made  his  distance.  And  how  many 
boys  are  there  who  can  run,  fast  or  slow,  a  full  mile  without  stopping  ? 

It  hardly  speaks  well  for  our  race,  does  it,  that  almost  any  animal  in  creation 
that  pretends  to  run  at  all  can  outrun  any  of  us  ? 

Take  the  smallest  terrier-dog  you  can  find,  that  is  sound  and  not  a  puppy,  and 
try  a  race  with  him.  He  '11  beat  you  badly.  He  '11  run  a  third  faster  than  you 
can,  and  ten  times  as  far,  and  this  with  legs  not  more  than  six  inches  long.  I 
have  a  hound  so  active  that  he  always  runs  at  least  seventy-five  miles  when  I 
stay  a  day  in  the  woods  with  him ;  for  he  certainly  runs  more  than  seven  miles 
an  houi-,  and  if  I  am  gone  ten  hours,  you  see  he  must  travel  about  seventy-five 
miles  of  distance.  And  then,  a  good  hound  will  sometinies  follow  a  fox  for  two 
days  and  nights  without  stopping,  going  more  than  tlirce  liundred  and  fifty 
miles,  and  ]u'  will  do  it  withont  eating  or  sleeping. 

Then,  you  may  have  heard  how  some  of  the  runners  in  the  Soutli  African 
tribes  will  run  for  long  distances  —  hundreds  of  miles  —  carrying  dispatches, 
and  making  very  few  stf>ps. 


j/()]\'  JO  7.'r.v. 


287 


I  iiiakc!  those  coTii])arisons  to  sliow  tliat  our  l)oys  wlio  can  not  I'liii  a  mile  willi 
out  bcinc^  badly  winded  are  very  poor  rnnnci-s. 

But  I  believe  that  I  can  tell  the  boys  soniethinj^-  that  will  help  tlieni  to  i-un 
better.  I  was  a  pretty  old  boy  when  I  first  found  it  ont,  but  the  first  time  1  tried 
it  1  ran  a  mile  and  a  quarter  at  one  dash,  and  I  was  not  weary  nor  blown.  And 
now  I  am  g'oini^  to  give  you  the  secret : 

Breathe  through  your  nose ! 

I  had  been  thinking  what  poor  runners  we  are,  and  wondering  why  ihv, 
animals  can  run  so  far,  and  it  occuired  to  me  that  perha])s  this  might  account  for 
the  difference,  that  they  always  take  air  through  the  nose,  wliile  we  usually 
begin  to  puff  through  our  mouths 
before  we  have  gone  many  rods. 
Some  animals,  such  as  the  dog  and 
the  fox,  do  open  their  mouths  and 
pant  while  running,  but  they  do 
this  to  cool  themselves,  and  not  be- 
cause they  can  not  get  air  enough 
through  their  noses. 

I  found  once,  through  a  sad  ex- 
perience with  a  pet  dog,  that  dogs 
must  die  if  their  nostrils  become 
stopped.  They  will  breathe  through 
the  mouth  only  while  it  is  forcil)ly 
held  open  ;  if  left  to  themselves  they 
always  breathe  through  the  nose. 

So,  possibly,  we  are  intended  to 
take  all  our  breath  through  the 
nose,  unless  necessity  drives  us  to 
breathe  through  the  mouth. 

There  are  many  other  reasons 
why  we  ought  to  make  our  noses 
furnish  all  the  air  to  our  lungs. 
One  is,  the  nose  is  filled  with  a  little 
forest  of  hair,  which  is  always  kejjt 
moist,  like  all  the  inner  surfaces  of 
the  nose,  and  particles  of  dust  that 
would  otherwise  rush  into  the  lungs 


<h;ifiy  pliU'c  for  a 


and  make  trouble,  are  caught  and  kept  out  })y  this  litth^  hairy  net-work.  Then 
the  passages  of  the  nose  are  longer  and  smaller,  and  more  ei-ook<Hl  than  that  of 
the  mouth,  so  that  as  it  passes  through  them  the  air  IxH'omes  warm.  But  these 
are  only  a  few  reasons  why  the  nose  ouglit  not  to  l)e  switched  off  and  left 
idle,  as  so  many  noses  are,  wliile  their  ownei-s  go  puffing  through  tlieir  montlis. 


288 


BOYS'  BOOK    OF  Sl'ORTS. 


The  trainers  of  men  for  racinjj:  and  ro\\anjr,  and  all  other  athletic  contests, 
understand  this,  and  teach  their  pupils  aeeordingly.  If  the  boys  will  try  this 
plan,  they  will  see  what  a  difference  it  will  make  in  their  endurance.  After  you 
have  run  a  few  rods  holding  your  mouth  tightly  closed,  there  will  come  a  time 
when  it  will  seem  as  though  you  could  not  get  air  enough  through  the  nose 
alone ;  but  don't  give  up;  keep  right  on,  and  in  a  few  moments  you  will  over- 
coTue  this.  A  little  practice  of  this  method  will  go  far  to  make  you  the  best 
runner  in  the  neighborhood. 


'ILc    Au.-.tiaL..ii    U,.-h 


THE    CAMERA 


19 


Come,  let  us  see  j^oiir  picture. 
Shakspere. 


THE  AMATEUR  CAMERA 


By  Alexander  Black. 


0= 


^N  the  irregular  l)luff  wliich  rises  opposite  BlackwelVs  Island, 
and  overlooks  the  East  River,  is  the  house  of  a  busy  New  York 
physician.  In  an  upper  window  may  often  be  seen  a  glistening 
mahogany  box,  to  which  is  attached  some  simple,  but  delicate 
mechanism.  This  box  is  a  camera,  and  its  wooden  eyelid  has 
but  to  wink  within  the  hundredth  part  of  a  second  to  imprison 
iipon  the  glass  plate  hidden  within,  a  perfect  ])icture  of  the  river 
with  all  its  activit}^  and  bustle  at  that  moment.  In  his  consult- 
ing-room below  stairs,  the  doctor  is  able  to  see  what  is  happening 
■upon  the  river,  and  when  he  hears  the  bellowing  of  a  Sound  steamer,  and  sees 
her  pushing  her  pompous  white  nose  through  the  river,  he  will  (unless,  perliaps, 
he  has  stolen  her  portrait  before)  touch  an  electric  knob  near  his  inkstand, 
the  wooden  eyelid  winks,  and  the  picture  is  taken.  When  tlie  doctor  has  time, 
he  goes  up  and  takes  o\it  the  plate. 

Every  neighborhood  in  town  and  in  country  has  now  its  enthusiastic  amateur 
photographer,  whose  friends  look  patiently  at  his  prints,  and  smile  a  little  at 
his  zeal.  Every  amateur  photographer  is  enthusiastic,  because  photography  is 
really  a  very  fascinating  as  well  as  a  very  useful  pastime.     It  is  a  very  com- 


292 


BOYS'   BOOK    OF  SFOBTS. 


panioiialjle  pursuit.  The  eauiora  hecomes  an  object  of  affection,  to  be  cherished 
as  a  stanch  friend.  And  it  makes  friends  with  <ill  sorts  of  folk.  I  could  tell 
you  of  a  boy  of  twelve  who  has  made  some  capital  jnctures,  and  without  an 
expensive  outfit,  just  as  I  could  tell  you  of  many  sage  elderly  men  who  find  the 
art  a  source  of  quiet  delight. 

The  best  thing  you  can  do  if  you  wish  to  take  up  with  pliotf)graphy  is  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  one  of  these  amateurs.  You  will  find  him  willing  to  tell  you 
all  about  it.  Indeed,  he  will  very  likely  overpower  you  at  first  with  recipes  and 
advice.  And  you  will  scarcely  find  two  people  who  will  tell  you  the  same  thing. 
It  will  be  best  at  starting  to  follow  implicitly  the  directions  of  some  one  success- 
ful amateur,  and  then,  when  you  have  mastered  the  first  principles  of  the  pro- 
cesses, to  experiment  for  yourself.  Professional  photographers  are  often  ready 
to  be  very  kind  to  those  who  make  a  pleasure  of  the  pursuit,  and  a  great  deal  is 
to  be  learned  in  a  short  visit  to  a  regular  gallery.  The  difficulty  in  this  case  is 
that  the  professional  not  only  works  on  a  much  larger  scale,  but  deals  with  a 
different  class  of  subjects.  An  amateur  will  be  more  likely  to  know  the 
particular  kind  of  mistakes  the  beginner  is  liable  to  make,  and  will  anticipate 
them  in  giving  hints  at  the  outset. 

I  purpose  setting  down  here  a  few  suggestions  for  those  ambitious  boys  and 
girls  who  think  of  taking  up  photography. 


I. — Apparatus. 

The  kind  of  apparatus  required  is  the  first  thing  the  would-be  photographer 
wishes  to  know.    There  is  an  old  sajang  about  the  poor  workman  being  readiest  to 

quarrel  with  his  tools.  If  you  are  care- 
less, you  can  not  make  good  pictures 
with  the  best  camera  in  the  world. 
If  you  are  prudent  and  sincere,  you 
can  make  admirable  pictures  with  the 
cheapest  of  lenses  and  a  common  box. 
Patience  will  go  farther  than  any 
chemicals  yet  discovered ;  so  that  it 
is  advisable,  unless  you  have  no  occa- 
sion to  consider  prices,  to  get  an  un- 
pretentious outfit  at  the  start.  I  have 
seen  some  superb  little  views  made 
with  a  $9  camera.  Very  good  work 
has,  in  fact,  Ix'cn  done  with  cameras  costing  even  less.  But  the  lens  is  the  most 
important  ])art  of  the  camera,  and  very  cheap  lenses  are  apt  to  twist  the  lines 
of  rectangular  olgects  in  a  very  annoying  way.  Whatever  you  pay  for  the  box 
part  of  the  camera,  be  sure  that  it  is  strong,  liglit-tight,  and  easily  adjustable. 


The  "Detei'tive"  camera  (sec  pap:?  204). 


THE  AMATEUU    CAMERA. 


29: 


When  you  come  to  set  up  ;i  cainerii  out-of-dooi-s  on  a  cold  day,  you  will  be 
very  tliaukful  for  every  little  niecliaiiieal  convenience  by  means  of  which  the 
exposure  can  be  made  in  a  hurry,— before  your  fingers  get  so  cold  that  you 
can  not  unscrew  the  tripod  when  you  want  to  pack  up.  Very  handsome  l)oxos 
can  now  be  had  for  $8,  $10  or  $12.  It  is  not  a  very  good  idea  to  pay  more  for 
a  box  than  for  a  lens.  The        ^^>^^  necessary    capacity    of    the    lens    is 


regulated  by  the 

box,    or,  rather, 

of      the     plates 

There  are  a  dozen  oood 

using  a  3|  X  4^  inch  cam 

is,  a  box  for  3^  x  4^  inch  plates 

erence   to   one  of  larger   si/e 

ability  are  two  important  consider 

for  a  3^  X  4|  camera  now  cost  about 

whereas,  for  a  4x5  inch  camera  thev 


Getting  the  foeu<< 


size  of  the 

by  the  size 

to  be  used. 

reasons  for 

era  —  that 

—  ill    i»rt'f- 

Expense  and  port- 

ations.     The  plates 

45  cents  a  dozen ; 


cost  about  20  cents 

a  dozen  more.  Some  of  the  most  charming  bits  of  scenery,  of  street  life,  and 
of  portraiture  I  have  ever  seen  have  been  made  on  3^x4^  inch  plates.  At 
least  the  amateur  should  be  content  at  the  start  with  a  4x5  inch  camera,  with 
which  pictures  are  made  that  fit  very  nicely  in  an  ordinary  portrait  album. 


294  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  inventions  of  recent  years  is  the  ''Detective" 
camera,  of  which  the  first  in  this  conntry  was  made  by  Mr.  William  Schmid,  of 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  This  camera  has  no  "  legs,"  but  is  carried  under  the  arm,  and  the 
pressing  of  a  knob  makes  an  instantaneous  exj^osure.  With  one  of  these,  views 
may  be  made  from  the  rigging  of  a  ship  in  motion,  from  the  window  of  a  rail- 
road train,  or  under  any  similar  conditions.  They  are  intended  for  use  out-of- 
doors  only,  as  they  require  a  good  deal  of  light.  They  cost  from  $45  to  $85. 
Other  ingenious  inventions  have  recently  been  made,  such  as  a  small  camera  to  be 
secreted  in  a  false  vest,  in  which  a  false  button  forms  the  opening  to  the  lens. 

II. — Taking  Pictures  Ixdooks  and  Ott. 

It  is  easier  to  make  pictures  out-of-doors  than  in  the  house,  because  there  is 
more  light  out-of-doors,  and  it  is  better  distributed.  With  each  lens  generally 
comes  a  series  of  thin  metal  plates,  pierced  by  holes  of  various  sizes.  One  of  these 
stops  or  diaphragms,  as  they  are  called,  is  slipped  through  a  slot  in  the  barrel  of 
the  lens,  the  size  of  the  aperture  to  be  used  depending  upon  the  amount  of  light 
and  the  amount  of  exposure.  Thus,  if  there  is  liright  sunlight,  and  you  are  going 
to  use  the  cap,—  that  is,  open  and  shut  the  opening  with  the  hand,— you  can  use 
a  very  small  diaphragm.  If  you  use  a  "  drop-shutter,"  an  appliance  for  making 
rapid  exposures,  the  diaphragm  will  have  to  be  a  good  deal  larger,  according  to 
the  power  of  the  lens ;  and  if  the  light  is  not  very  strong  it  may  be  best  to  leave 
out  the  diaphragm  altogether.  The  smaller  the  diaphragm,  the  "  sharper  "  the 
negative  will  be.  After  you  have  had  a  little  experience,  you  will  be  able  to  tell 
by  looking  on  the  ground  glass  as  to  the  amount  of  '*  light  in  the  box,"  and  to 
regulate  the  size  of  the  stop  and  the  time  of  exposure  accordingly.  In  the  case 
of  moving  objects  a  rapid  exposure  becomes  absolutely  necessary,  and  will  be 
the  first  consideration.  There  is  better  light  in  summer  than  in  winter,  more  in 
the  open  country  than  in  the  streets  of  a  town,  and  more  on  the  sea  than  any- 
where else.  It  is  never  advisable  to  photograph  against  the  suii,  that  is,  with 
sunlight  falling  on  the  face  of  the  camera.  Certainly,  never  allow  the  sunlight 
to  strike  the  lens  itself,  as  such  an  accident  will  surely  ''  fog"  the  plate.  It  is 
better  to  have  the  light  come  from  behind  the  operator.  In  every  ease  keep  the 
focnsing-cloth  over  tlie  box  while  putting  in  and  taking  out  the  slides. 

Indoors,  the  problem  of  exposure  is  not  only  more  perplexing,  but  the  object 
to  be  photographed  has  to  be  specially  lighted,—  the  dark  or  shadow  side  has 
to  be  lighted  up  by  reflectors,  else  all  the  shadows  would  be  hard  and  black. 
If  you  can  find  any  place  in  the  house  whei-e  a  skylight  sends  doAvn  light  from 
a1)ove  (as  in  a  professional  gallery),  instead  of  letting  it  in  from  the  side,  as  at 
a  window,  that  is  the  i)lacc  for  you  to  make  portraits  or  groups.  If  you  have 
no  place  bnt  a  window,  cover  up  the  lower  part  with  thick  brown  paper  or  a 
shawl,  and  place  the  chair  for  the  sitter  two  or  three  feet  away.     This  will  give 


THE  AMATEUR    CAMERA. 


295 


something  approachiug  a  top  light.  Then  light  up  the  shadow  side  by  placing 
a  high-backed  chair,  a  screen,  or  a  clothes-horse  with  a  bed  sheet,  or  something 
of  that  sort,  over  it,  on  the  side  of  the  sitter  opposite  the  window.  It  is  well  to 
place  the  reflecting  arrangement  at  a  slight  angle,  so  that  the  reflection  will, 
in  some  degree,  be  thrown  iipward.  There  is,  of  course,  no  reason  in  the  world 
wliy  the  ingenious  amateur  should  not  build  himself  a  comfortable  reflector  by 
stretching  some  white  muslin  on  a  wooden  frame, 
and  adjusting  this  to  two  uprights  so  that  its  angle 
may  be  readily  changed.  As  the  amateur  gener- 
ally gets  along  without  a  "  head-rest "  for  the  sit- 
ter, he  should  be  careful  to  see  that  the  patient 
is  seated  snugly  against  the  chair-back.  The  ex- 
posure indoors  must  be  ten,  twenty,  sometimes  fifty 
times  longer  than  out-of-doors.  That  is  to  say, 
where  one  might  make  a  picture  in  the  twentieth 
part  of  a  second  in  the  open  air,  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  expose  the  plate  for  a  full  second  indoors, 
and  this  would  be  a  very  short  exposure  for  the 
house.  With  a  medium-sized  stop  in  a  faii-ly 
lighted  room,  it  is  not  easy,  even  with  rapid  plates, 
to  get  along  with  less  than  four  seconds  exposure ; 
and  the  probability  is  that  you  may  have  to  give 
seven.  In  taking  children,  the  exposure  has  to 
be  so  short  that  it  is  generally  necessary  to  work 
with  the  open  tube,  without  stop.  In  the  case  of 
inanimate  objects,  a  fine  effect  may  be  secured  W' ith 
a  very  small  stop  and  long  exposure.  If  you  are 
photographing  an  interior,  and  can  take  youi'  time,  use  a  very  small  stop  and 
expose  the  plate  for  fifteen  minutes,  half  an  hour,  half  a  day  if  necessary. 
If  a  light  window  comes  within  range  of  the  lens,  you  will  have  an  opportunity 
to  display  your  tact,  since  the  negative  would  be  ruined  unless  something 
were  done  to  diminish  the  glare  of  light.  You  may  be  able  to  blanket  up 
the  intrusive  window,  excluding  every  particle  of  light,  and  then  get  illu- 
mination from  an  adjoining  window,  or  through  door-ways  from  other  lighted 
apartments.  If  you  have  patience  you  will  then  take  a  small  wall-mirror, 
and,  kee})ing  it  in  motion,  cast  its  reflection  into  the  dim  parts  of  the  room 
during  the  ])eriod  of  exposure.  In  the  mean  time,  you  may  have  sheets  hung 
so  that  they  will  reflect  light  while  themselves  not  within  range.  If  the 
light  is  too  strong  in  any  one  part  of  the  room,  the  corresponding  part  of  the 
negative  will  be  "cooked"  before  the  other  parts  are,  perhaps,  half  done,  and 
the  result  wiU  be  unsatisfactory.  The  easiest  way  to  photograph  an  interior 
is,  of  course,  to  photograph  from  the  side  at  which  the  light  enters,  or  across 


Taking  a  portrait  at  an 
ordinary  window. 

coveriiifcof  lower  part  of  window: 
BH,  anjile  of  light ;  cc,  angle  of  re- 
retiector.] 


296 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


the  angle  of  light.  After  the  general  interior  has  had  sufficient  exposure,  it  is 
sometimes  feasible  to  remove  the  coverings  from  the  windows  (after  carefully 
replacing  the  cap  on  the  instrument)  and  to  then  give  the  whole  one  second,  or 
more,  exposure,  according  to  the  strength  of  the  light  at  the  windows.  In  such 
a  case  the  light  should  be  so  arranged  that  strong  streams  of  light  and  lines  of 
shadow  do  not  produce  an  unpleasant  effect  on  the  floor  or  elsewhere.  Remem- 
"ber  while  you  are  at  it  that  photographing  interiors  is  the  most  difficvilt  feature 
of  photography. 

III. —  Developixg  the  Plate. 

Now  comes  the  tug  of  war.  All  that  you  have  done  so  far  will  go  for  nothing 
if  you  are  not  cool  and  careful  in  the  operation  of  developing.  A  perfectly  dark 
room  is  wanted,  to  begin  with.  At  night  it  will  only  be  necessary  to  draw  the 
Llinds  of  the  room  to  make  it  sufficiently  dark.  But  in  the  daytime  every 
chink  that  might  let  in  the  faintest  ray  of  light  must  be  covered.  Blankets 
and  shawls  will  be  very  much  in  demand.     A  large  closet  with  no  windows  is 

sometimes  useful.  If  the  young 
photographer  is  camping  out,  a 
dark  nook  near  a  stream  will  an- 
swer, unless  the  moon  is  high  and 
full.  The  first  of  the  dark-room 
properties  is  a  ruby  glass  lantern. 
This  red  "  non-actinic  "  light  does 
not  affect  the  plates  during  the 
time  requii-ed  for  development.  At 
the  same  time,  let  me  advise  be- 
ginning the  development  with  the 
lamp  flame  turned  low,  especially 
if  the  plates  are  "extra  rapid.'' 
Then  there  must  be  a  developing- 
tray  and  a  tray  for  "  fixing."  The 
developing  solution  turns  black 
the  parts  of  the  plates  touched  by 
the  rays  of  light ;  the  "  fixer"  then 
clears  off  the  remainder  of  the  white 
film  and  makes  the  whole  perma- 
nent. Recipes  for  development,  like 
patent-medicine  cures  for  rheumatism,  are  amazingly  numerous.  There  are  two 
varieties  of  developer  in  common  use ;  —  one  is  called  the  ''  iron "  develo})er, 
because  it  contains,  among  other  things,  protosulphate  of  iron  (photogrnpliy  is 
something  of  an  education  in  chemistry);  the  other  is  called  the  ''i)yr()" 
developer,  l)ecau.se  it  contains  pyrogallic  acid.      "Condensed"  developers  in 


A  critical  momi'ut. 


THE  AMATKUU    CAN  Eli  A. 


297 


Photograpbiug  the  twins. 

bottles  are  sold,  and  are  a  good  substitute  for  the  developer  prepared  by  the 
photographer  himself.  An  amateur  can  not  do  better  at  the  outset  than  use 
this  ready-made  solution.  I  have  used  both  Cooper's  and  Carbutt's  prepared 
developers  and  have  found  both  excellent.  As  formulas  are  easily  obtainable 
wherever  materials  are  to  be  bought,  and  as  directions  always  accompany 
each  package  of  plates,  I  shall  not  encumber  this  sketch  with  details.  I 
shall  only  advise  having  the  developer  a  little  weak,  when  you  arc  uncertain 
as  to  the  exposure,  and  giving  plenty  of  time,  in  preference  to  hurrying 
matters.  If  you  can  watch  an  experienced  photographer,  amateur  or  profes- 
sional, develop  a  plate,  before  going  about  it  yourself,  the  experience  will  be 
invaluable  to  you.  Use  plenty  of  cool  water  in  washing  the  plate,  being  careful 
to  let  it  flow  over  the  surface  gently.  If  you  can  not  secure  a  room  with  run- 
ning water,  have  a  bucketful  on  one  side  of  you  and  a  waste-dish  on  the  other. 
In  the  case  of  the  woods  at  night,  a  stream  will  answer  for  both  bucket  and  dip- 
per.    For  fixing  small  plates,  one  ounce  of  crystal  hyposulphite  (not  sidpliate) 


298 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOBTS. 


of  soda,  dissolved  in  about  eight  ounces  of  water,  is  to  be  used.  Half  an  ounce 
of  alum  dissolved  in  the  same  amount  of  water  is  sometimes  used  for  immers- 
ing the  plate  in  after  developing  and  before  fixing,  thus  hardening  the  film ;  but 
I.  have  found  it  just  as  expedient  to  put  the  alum  in  with  the  hypo  (without 
extra  water).  In  summer  the  alum  is  especially  necessary,  as  the  film  is  then 
especially  tender  when  wet.  The  developing  has  generally  gone  far  enough 
when  you  can  see  the  outlines  from  the  back  of  the  plate  ;  the  fixing  is  finished 
when  all  the  white  has  disappeared,  tliat  is,  when  it  can  not  be  seen  from  the 
back  of  the  plate. 

lY. —  I*RINTING. 

After  the  negative  is  dry,  you  are  ready  to  print.  For  this  process  you  must 
have  the  assistance  of  the  sun  (what  could  we  do  without  good  Old  Sol?). 
"Ferro-prussiate"  paper  requires  no  special  preparation,  and  after  printing,  only 
needs  to  be  washed.  These  are  called  ''blue  prints,"  and  are  i)ermanently 
valualile.  For  regular  silver  prints,  silvered  paper  is  necessary.  The  difficul- 
ties and  uncertainties  attending  the  silvering  of  the  paper  make  it  advis- 
able for  the  amateur  either  to  get  "  ready-sensitized"  paper,  or  to  procure  a 
silvered  sheet  from  a  photographer.      I  recommend   the   latter   course,  since 

ready-sensitized  pa- 
per is  somewhat 
"onsartin"  when  it 
comes  to  "toning." 
A  single  sheet,  sil- 
vered and  "fumed" 
ready  for  use  (cut- 
ting into  sixteen 
4x5  inch  pieces), 
should  not  cost 
more  than  twenty- 
five  cents. 

The  "toning"  of 
the  silver  prints  is 
a  simple,  though 
delicate,  process, 
for  which  formulas 

are  easily  procured.  Remember  that  if  the  negative  was  weak,  and  if  the  ]n-int 
la<;ks  rieh,  dark  tones,  the  print  can  not  be  made  so  deep  in  color  as  could  one 
from  a  strong  negative  —  a  negative  which  you  could  leave  in  the  sun  for 
a  longer  time.  It  is  particularly  necessary  in  the  case  of  the  toning  and  the 
fixing  which  again  occur  here,  that  you  should  first  have  watched  an  experi- 
enced hand  do  the  same  w(n-k.    Leave  the  prints  all  night  in  water.    If  you  have 


>Somewhat  out  of  focus. 


THE  AMATEUR   CAMERA. 


299 


6\ 


>--^Z> 


'k-v 


i^ .41  Lviti; ' 


"  It 's  gwine  to  go  off  ! " 

the  opportunity,  "  mount"  them  in  the  morning  while  they  are  wet.  In  ease  you 
can  not  mount  them  then,  they  must  be  thoroughly  wet  again  before  they  can  be 
mounted.  The  paste  (made  from  starch)  should  be  like  stiff  jelly,  the  water  on 
the  paper  supplying  moisture  sufficient  to  loosen  it  up. 

Uo  not  hesitate  to  trim  down  the  prints.  Very  often  a  figure,  group,  or  other 
subject  is  greatly  improved  by  the  cutting  away  of  superfluous  and  uninterest- 
ing parts  of  the  picture. 

V. —  To  Photograph  a  City  Drawing-Room. 

The  diagram  on  page  800  shows  several  methods  of  ]ihotographing  an 
ordinary  city  drawing-room.  In  making  a  picture  from  the  points  a  or  B,  none 
of  the  four  windows  (1,  2,  3,  4)  will  require  to  be  covered.  If  the  camera  is 
placed  either  at  c  or  at  e,  one  window  must  be  covered  so  as  to  exclude  all  light, 
while  the  other  three  do  the  illuminating.  The  shades  of  the  windows  not 
covered  may  be  raised  or  lowered  so  as  to  make  the  shadows  agreeable.  After 
a  long  exposure  with  the  window  covered,  put  on  the  cap,  remove  the  coverings, 
and  expose  again  for  one  or  two  seconds  or  less,  according  to  the  light  coming 
in  and  the  size  of  the  stop  in  use.  Operating  from  the  point  D,  two  windows 
must  be  sealed  in  the  same  way.     Some  black  or  deep  red  material  is  best  for 


300 


BOY.S'   HOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


the  covering  of  the  windows,  as  the  space  they  occupy  ou  the  plate  will  then  be 
kept  blank  until  the  time  comes  for  printing  in  the  windows.  Whether  the 
opening  5  be  a  door  or  a  window,  it  can  be  used  as  a  means  of  letting  in  light, 


T 1 

(0                                 1 

^          1 

■-■■...-::..-» 

.^' 


Diai,'r 


>toirrapliiiiu' 


irv  (lra\ving:-rooni. 


w-liich  may  be  reflected  through  the  door-ways  by  the  aid  of  white  material  hung 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  These  general  principles  may  be  applied  to 
the  photographing  of  any  sort  of  an  apartment. 


YI. —  How  TO  Take  Your  own  Portrait. 

The  illustration  T)elow  shows  one  method  of  ph()tograi)hing  yourself.  The  cam- 
era must  be  firmly  planted,  and  the  box  solidly  screwed  to  the  tripod,  that  there 

may  be  no  jar.  By  passing  the  string 
through  the  handle  of  the  flat-iron, 
or  something  as  weighty,  ou  the  floor 
or  gi-ound  immediately  uiuler  the  cam- 
era, the  chances  of  jarring  are  largely 
overcome.  If  you  wish  to  take  the 
entire  figure,  or  to  take  a  group,  of 
which  you  form  a  part,  pass  the  sti-iug 
around  the  leg  of  the  chair  on  which 
you  sit.  or  around  soiiie  other  solid 
object  ])cliiii(l    or    beside  you,  thence 


ik 


Now,  look  pleasant  yourself  ! 

through  the  handle  of  a  secoiul  flat-iron  (see  dotted  line)  iu)t  within  range  of 
the  lens,  to  the  iron  under  the  camera.     The  object  is,  of  course,  not  to  have 


TIU-:   AMATKUli    CAMEIiA. 


301 


the  string-  i»h()t()^Ta]»luHl.  The  srparate  sketch  of  the  "  shutter "  will  iudieate 
how  such  a  thiuj^  may  be  made.  This  is  a  "time"  shutter;  that  is,  it  is  for 
making'  exposures  when  there  is  not  light  enough  to  use  the  "  drop,"  or  instan- 
taneous shutter.  The  movable  center-pieee  should  fit  snugly  between  the  outer 
and  inner  pieces,  and  yet  should  work  easily.  At  the  top  is  a  light  spring 
sufficient  to  bring  the  shutter  gently  back  as  the  sti'ing  is  loosened. 

VII. —  Sr(i<;E8Ti()NS. 

The  best  suggestion  I  could  offer  as  to  the  selection  or  arrangement  of  subjects 
W(mld  be  to  study  the  illustrations  in  The  Cenfiirij,  in  St.  Nicholas,  in  Art 
Exhibition  Catalogues,  or  in  any  well  illustrated  book  or  magazine. 

To  render  negatives  permanent  aiul  easy  to  handle,  it  is  advisable  to  varnish 
them.  This  may  be  done  by  first  warming  the  glass,  and  then  pouring  on  the 
varnish  until  it  has  flooded  the  face  of  the  plate.  All  that  will  then  drip  off 
may  be  returned  to  the  bottle.  Practice  this  process  on  some  spoiled  plates 
first,  as  the  negative  may  be  ruined  by  a  blunder. 

Keep  a  record  of  the  date,  subject,  light,  and  time  of  exposure  in  the  ease  of 
each  negative.  These  entries  may  be  made  in  a  memorandum  book,  or  on  the 
envelopes  in  which  the  negatives  are  filed  away,  and  will  be  of  great  value  not 
only  in  determining  what  to  do  on  similar  occasions,  but  in  recalling  the  i)eriod 
and  circumstances  under  which  the  picture  was  taken. 

There  are  five  hundred  or  more  hints  I  would  like  to  give  you,  but  I  am  not 
sure  that  the  time  occupied  in  reading  might  not  be  more  profitably  spent  in  a 
struggle  with  the  difficulties  themselves. 


WINTER   SPORTS. 


'O  winter.'  ruler  of  ih'  itrccried  year , 
J  crown  thee  king  of  intimate  delights." 

COWPER. 


TOBOGGANS  AND  THEIR  USE, 


By  Frederic  G.  Mather. 


I  THINK  I  can  tell  the  boys  how  they  may  enjoy  themselves  more  during: 
the  winter  months  that  are  to  come  than  they  ever  did  in  their  lives.  You 
have  all  of  you  noticed  the  sides  of  a  hill  when  they  are  covered  with  snow ; 
and,  as  you  have  looked  upon  the  gentle  slope  and  the  broad  and  level  meadow 
beyond,  you  have  thought :  "  I  wish  I  could  slide  down  that  hill  and  way  out 
over  the  meadow ;  it  would  be  such  fun  !  " 

But  you  all  know  that  you  could  not  use  your  sleds  for  the  purpose  of  sliding 

down  a  hill-side  where  there  is  no  road,  because  the  runners  would  soon  cut 

through  the  crust  of  the  snow.  Even  if  you  commenced  to  slide  and  went  part  way 

down  such  a  hill,  your  sled  might  be  suddenly  stopped  and  vou  would  go  rolling 

20 


306 


BOY-S'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


over  aud  over  toward  the  l>ottom.  If  you  sliould  try  to  slide  down  on  a  board, 
you  would  certainly  be  stopped  in  this  way;  and,  after  picking  yourself  up,  you 
would  feel  as  I  did  when  I  was  about  six  years  old  and  tried  to  slide  down  the 
back  stairs  on  a  board.  The  board  stuck  upon  the  edge  of  one  of  the  stairs  and 
I  went  on  to  the  bottom  without  it.  Presently  the  board  came  dowm  on  top  of 
me.  This  made  such  a  noise  that  some  one  came  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 
My  statement  was  simply  this  :  ''  I  thought  I  would  slide  down  the  stairs."  I 
was  warned  not  to  try  that  again,  and  never  did ;  and  I  know  that  if  you  ever 
try  to  slide  down-hill  on  a  board,  you  will  never  repeat  the  experiment. 

A  board  is  flat,  and  will  not  sink  into  the  snow  as  deep  as  the  runners  of  a 
sled;  but  then  the  end  is  not  turned  up  like  the  runners.  Now,  if  we  could 
have  a  combination  of  the  sled  and  the  board,  we  could  slide  down  the  hills  and 
across  the  meadows.  I  will  describe  such  a  combination  of  the  sled  and  board 
and  will  tell  you  how  you  can  easily  make  one.  Then,  whenever  there  is  a 
good  crust  on  the  snow,  you  can  have  more  fun  in  sliding  than  you  ever  had 
before. 

What  I  am  about  to  describe  is  called  a  ''  toboggan."  You  can  only  find  that 
word  in  late  editions  of  the  dictionary— for  it  is  the  name  given  to  it  by  the 
Indians  of  northern  Canada,  and  has  only  recently  come  into  general  use.  The 
toboggans  are  loaded  with  furs,  and  travel  many  miles  over  the  snow  to  the 
trading-posts.  There  both  furs  and  toboggans  are  sold,  and  the  Indians  start 
on  their  tramp  homeward.     A  great  many  toboggans  are  also  made  for  gentle- 


men and  ladies  in  the  large  Canadian  cities,  and  it  is  now  <iuite  the  fashion  to  use 
these  queer-looking  sleds.  There  are  not  very  many  i)la('es  in  tlie  United  States 
which  are  as  cold  as  Canada;  but  we  have  enough  cold  weather  to  have  con- 


TOBOGGANS  AND    TIIKIU    USE. 


;U)7 


siderable  coastiiiu'  in  inany  parts  of  our  own 
make  it  worth  while  to  liave  a  toboij:g:au.  ludec 
in  the  Northern  United  States  now  have  their 
If  you  wish  to  make  a  toboggan,  you  niu^t 
take  a  board  of  bass-wood,  oak,  ash,  or  any 
other  kind  that  will  bend  easily.  Pine 
will  not  do,  for  it  is  too  soft,  and  will 
split,  ^'ou  will  not  be  apt  to  find  a 
board  thin  enough  for  your  pur 
pose;  but  you  can  have  it 
planed  to  a  thickness 
of  three-sixteenths  to 
one-quarter  of  ~  ,, 


country  —  cnongh,  at  any  rate,  to 
d,  you  well  kni^w  that  nuiny  places 
toboggan  "slides"  or  ''shutes." 


Tho  tobossan  slide 


308  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

the  board  does  split;  for  they  say  that  the  cracks  will  keep  the  toboggan 
from  sliding  sideways.  It  is  about  the  same  thing  whether  the  single  board 
is  split,  or  two  boards  are  used  in  the  first  place ;  but  you  will  find  it  much 
easier  to  make  the  toboggan  out  of  a  single  board.  Some  of  the  best  tobog- 
gans, however,  are  made  of  several  strips,  instead  of  a  single  board. 

The  board  should  be  six  feet  long.  You  can  have  it  as  much  longer  as  you 
choose  — but  I  am  now  telling  you  about  the  length  of  a  toboggan  that  will 
hold  two  boys.  I  have  had  a  ride  on  one  that  was  long  enough  to  hold  six  or 
eight  persons. 

You  will  need  seven  pieces  of  hard  wood,  as  long  as  your  toboggan  is  wide ; 
and  two  pieces,  each  a  little  over  four  feet  long.  Each  of  these  nine  pieces 
should  be  one  inch  square  or  round.  Time  will  be  gained  and  trouble  will  be 
saved  if  you  can  have  them  made  round  at  a  lumber-mill. 

A  visit  to  the  shoemaker  is  next  in  order.  You  must  tell  him  that  you  want 
four  pairs  of  leather  shoe-strings.  He  will  probably  ask  you  how  mam-  pairs 
of  shoes  you  wear  at  a  time ;  but  then  he  does  not  know  that  you  are  making  a 
toboggan,  and  besides  that,  it  is  none  of  his  business,  at  any  rate  — for  this  is  a 
free  country,  and  you  have  a  right  to  wear  as  many  pairs  of  shoes  at  a  time  as 
you  choose. 

On  page  306  is  a  plan  of  the  toboggan.  After  studying  it  well,  you  can  go  to 
work.  Lay  six  of  your  round  pieces  (a,  b,  c,  d,  e,  f)  across  the  board,  beginning 
at  one  end!  They  should  be  one  foot  apart.  At  right  angles  to  these,  and  near 
their  ends,  lay  the  two  long  pieces,  h  and  i.  Bore  four  holes  in  the  corner  i  a 
(see  small  cut),  and  tie  both  pieces  to  the  board  with  part  of  a  shoe-string. 
Make  two  holes  at  k,  and  tie  in  the  same  manner.  Let  the  knots  always  appear 
on  the  upper  surface,  and  be  sure  that  the  leather  which  shows  on  the  under 
side  is  parallel  with  the  length  of  the  board,  as  you  see  it  arranged  from  f  to  l. 
The  under  side  will  be  considerably  smoother  if  you  cut  grooves  to  allow  the 
leather  strings  to  sink  below  the  surface ;  but  do  not  cut  the  grooves  too  deep. 

In  this  manner  fasten  all  the  braces  from  a  to  F ;  and  the  pieces  i  and  H  as 
you  proceed.  These  long  pieces  are  to  be  used  as  handles  while  you  ride,  and 
they  should  be  sharpened  at  the  end  e.  Be  careful  to  fasten  the  brace,  G,  on 
the  under  side  as  the  board  lies  flat  upon  the  floor  of  your  workshop.  You  are 
now  ready  to  bend  the  end  from  e  to  G.  If  the  board  is  not  too  thick,  you  can 
do  it  at  once ;  but  if  there  is  any  trouble,  you  can  use  steam  or  hot  water.  Hav- 
ing bent  it  with  a  graceful  curve,  fasten  with  bits  of  leather  the  points  G  and  e. 
and  also  the  corresponding  points  on  the  other  side,  and  then  your  toboggan 
will  be  complete.  At  F  and  l  you  can  attach  a  cord,  and  when  sliding  you  must 
use  a  sharp  stick  for  steering  this  strange  craft.  If  you  have  bent  the  end  by 
steaming  you  can  cut  the  cord  after  it  has  held  the  end  for  a  few  days,  and  the 
end  will  keep  its  place. 


Wuul  a^aiu^t   ^,1 


HOW  TO   AIAKE  AN  ICE-BOAT. 


By  J,  H.  Hubbard. 


THE  sport  of  sailing  on  the  iee  has  within  recent  years  attracted  considerable 
attention  on  our  Northern  rivers  and  lakes,  and  seems  likely  to  increase. 
It  is  an  amusement  well  adapted  to  big  boys,  being  exciting,  requiring  skill,  and 
certainly  not  more  dangerous  than  skating.  It  is  even  more  fascinating  than 
yachting,  without  the  danger  which  always  attends  the  latter  pursuit.  A  small 
ice-boat  that  a  boy  can  build  will  sail  ten  to  twenty  miles  an  hour  with  a  good 
wind.  Some  large  ones,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  can  sail,  with  a  wind  on  the 
beam,  actually  faster  than  the  wind  which  is  blowing.  This  fact  is  attested  by 
the  highest  scientific  authorities. 

Having  seen  some  unsuccessful  attempts  at  ice-boats  by  boys  in  various  places, 
I  propose  to  tell  you  how  to  build  one,  at  a  small  expense,  that  will  sail  well,  and 
give  you  a  great  deal  of  sport. 


310 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


Fig.  1. — Outline  of  ice-boat. 

The  directions  and  measurements  are  the  result  of  careful  experiment.-;  and 
some  failures.  Fig.  1  is  an  elevation,  Fig.  2  (on  page  311)  a  ground  plan  of  the 
frame,  and  Fig.  3  (page  313)  a  section  of  a  runner.  Get  a  spruce  plank,  a,  12  feet 
long,  6  inches  wide,  2  inches  thick.  This  is  the  backbone  of  tJie  structure. 
Near  one  end  of  it  cut  a  hole  two  inches  square,  to  receive  the  foot  of  the  mast. 

Take  two  oak  cross-bars,  E  e,  8  feet  long,  4  inches  deep,  2  inches  thick.  The 
cross-bars  are  bolted  to  a,  one  foot  apart,  the  forward  one  a  foot  from  mast- 
hole.     This  distance  is  best. 


HO]V  TO  MAKE  AN  ICE-BOAT. 


311 


Next  get  one  oak  plank,  c,  16  inelios  loiii^-,  3A  inches  deep,  2  inelies  tliiek. 

The  hard-wood  piece,  d,  is  for  tiller,  4  feet  long,  2  inches  wide,  1  inch  thick. 
This  is  to  be  set  into  the  top  of  plank  c,  and  fastened  there  with  screws.  To  each 
end  of  it  is  attached  a  rope,  which  runs  over  a  sheave  fastened  to  the  cross-ljar. 
c  D,  and  the  ropes  I  I,  constitute  the  steering  apparatus.  Two  boards,  f  f,  each 
11  feet  long,  8  inches  wide,  §-inch  thick,  are  planed,  and  the  edges  matched 
together  at  the  stern.  They  are  nailed  to  the  plank,  a,  and  the  cross-bar,  e  e, 
as  shown  in  Fig.  2.  Four  blocks,  each  3  inches  thick,  must  be  put  under  them 
where  they  lie  over  the  cross-bars.  A  board  a  foot  long,  J-inch  thick,  must  also 
be  put  under  F  F  at  the  stern. 

Six  slats,  G  G,  as  long  as  may  be  needed,  2  inches  wide,  |-incli  thick,  are  nailed 
over  A,  and  under  f  f. 

The  mast  is  a  natural  spruce  stick,  13  feet  long,  shaved  down  to  3i  inches  at 
butt,  2J  inches  at  the  top. 

The  boom  is  13*  feet  long,  two  inches  thick  at  each  end,  and  a  little  thicker 
in  the  middle.     It  is  fastened  to  the  mast  by  an  ii'on  eye,  screwed  into  the  mast 


Ground  plan  of  ice-boat  frame. 


and  a  hook  in  the  end  of  the  boom.     The  sprit  is  10  feet  long,  li  inches  diameter, 
shaved  to  |-inch  for  2  inches  at  each  end. 

The  iron  collar,  /,  through  which  the  mast  is  inserted  loosely,  stands  two  feet 
above  the  top  of  plank,  a.     It  is  supported  by  three  iron  braces,  //  h  h,  and  is 


312 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


Ixjlted  to  tlie  tops  of  these  braces,  which  are  of  ^-iiu-h  round  iron,  bolted  to  the 
frame  as  shown. 

The  hiud-ruuner  bk>ck,  c,  is  fastened  to  A  by  a  strong  iron,  m,  as  shown  in 
Fig.  1.  It  allows  the  runner  to  rock  up  and  down,  and  to  be  turned  sidewise  by 
the  tiller.  A  must  be  plated  with  iron  top  and  bottom  where  m  goes  through, 
that  the  runner  may  not  "  wobble." 

The  construction  of  the  runners,  J  J  -t,  must  be  attended  to  with  the  greatest 
care,  as  upon  these,  in  a  great  measure,  will  depend  the  success  of  your  boat. 
Get  a  square  bar  of  cast  steel,  6  feet  long,  cut  off  22  inches  for  third  runner,  and 
divide  the  rest  in  halves,  across.  Shape  two  forward  runners  and  one  hind  one 
as  shown  in  Fig.  1.     The  bearing  surface  is  a  right-angled  edge,  as  shown  in 


Fig.  3.  This  sharp  edge  holds  the  ice  firmly  without  much  friction.  Holes  are 
bored  two  inches  up  into  the  cross-bars,  near  their  ends,  and  the  runners  di-iven 
in  and  fastened  with  rivets.  After  the  runners  are  forged,  they  should  be 
:finished  with  a  file  and  emery  paper  if  not  perfectly  smooth.  The  front  turn 
must  be  long  and  gradual,  like  a  skate,  two-thirds  the  length,  however,  flat  on 
the  ice.  The  running  edges  should  not  be  too  sharp.  They  will  project  2i  or 
three  inches  below  the  bottom  of  the  wood. 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  ICE-BOAT.  313 

For  the  sail,  get  twenty  yards  of  heavy  drilling,  three-quarters  of  a  yard  wide. 
The  dimensions  are  :  Head,  5  feet ;  foot,  13  feet ;  foreleach,  10  feet ;  af terleach, 
14^  feet.  Make  these  measurements  on  a  floor,  and  mark  the  outlines  with  a 
chalk-line.     Cut  tht?  after-breadth  fli-st,  and  the  others  ^^ 

to  match.     Lap  the  breadths  1  inch.     Allow  an  inch  all  Jiurwcr 

around   for  a   hem.     The   breadths   should   be   basted 
before  stitching.     Put  two  rows  of  stitching  where  the  • 

breadths  lap.     Look  out  for  puckering.     Put  a  narrow  fcF" 

hem  clear  around  the  sail.     Then  stitch  a  f-inch  rope    pj^,.  3._  section  of  runner. 
around  the  hem.  Make  a  loop  at  the  peak,  to  put  the  end 

of  sprit  into.  Draw  the  rope  tight  along  the  boom,  and  fasten  it  through  a 
hole  in  the  end.  Fasten  the  tliroat  of  sail  tight  to  the  top  of  the  mast.  Cut  a 
number  of  short  pieces  of  heavy  twine,  and  lace  the  sail,  at  intervals  of  a  foot, 
to  the  boom  and  mast.  Fasten  a  becket,  or  loop  of  rope,  at  a  suitaljle  position 
on  the  mast,  to  set  the  heel  of  the  sprit  into.  Rig  main-sheet  over  two  sheaves, 
as  shown;  it  brings  less  strain  on  the  boom,  and  clears  the  skippei*'s  head  in 
tacking.     Make  a  good  large  wooden  cleat,  to  belay  it  to. 

The  cost  of  materials  will  be  about  as  follows : 

Boards,  plank  and  mast $5.00 

Iron-work COO 

Twenty  yards  drilling 2.75 

Four  single-sheaved  galvanized  pnlley-blocks  at  35e 1.40 

(May  be  omitted  by  using  leather  straps. ) 
Ropes,  etc 85 

Total $16.00 

A  boat  built  as  above  will  sail  nearly  as  close  to  the  wind  as  a  good  cat-boat. 
It  is  managed  much  the  same.  Don't  turn  too  short  in  coming  about.  Jibe 
when  you  like,  without  fear  of  capsizing.  Your  boat  will  carry  three  persons 
in  a  light  wind,—  more  if  it  blows  fresh.  Rig  it  neatly,  and  try  to  make  a 
finished  thing  all  through.  Your  ice-boat  will  then  be  more  than  a  boy's  play- 
thing, and  will  be  admired  by  old  and  young. 


EVERY  BOY  HIS  OWN  ICE-BOAT 


By  Charles  L.  Norton. 


VERY  few  skaters  have  uot,  uow  aad  then,  to  a  moderate  extent,  made  ice- 
boats of  themselves  by  standing  up  straight,  with  their  backs  to  the  wind, 
and  allowing  themselves  to  be  blown  along  before  it.  Coats,  held  wide  open, 
umbrellas,  shawls,  and  the  like,  have  been  used  to  gain  greater  speed ;  but,  after 
all  was  done,  there  remained  the  long  pull  back  against  the  wind  —  no  laughing 
matter,  with  the  thermometer  in  the  twenties,  or  lower,  and  a  howling  north- 
wester sending  the  loose  snow  in  stinging  sheets  along  the  ice.  There  was  so 
much  fun,  however,  in  running  down  before  the  gale,  that  boys  have  always 
made  light  of  working  to  the  windward.  Why  in  the  Avorld  it  did  not  sooner 
occur  to  some  ingenious  lad  that  he  could  turn  himself  into  an  efficient  ice-boat, 
is  one  of  those  things  that  can  not  be  explained ;  but  certain  it  is  that  until  (piite 
recently  the  world  at  large  did  not  know  that  Canadians  were  in  the  habit  of 
rigging  themselves  with  spars  and  canvas,  sailing  ''close-hauled,"  "running 
free,"  having  themselves  "  taken  aback,"  "  missing  stays,"  being  struck  by 
siiualls,  and,  in  short,  going  through  no  end  of  fascinating  maneuvers,  with  the 
aid  of  wind,  and  without  danger  of  a  ducking  in  case  of  an  upset. 

The  name  of  the  inventor  of  skate-sailing  has  not  been  announced,  but  his 
plan  was  the  simple  one  of  stretching  an  oblong  sail  on  a  light  frame,  and  hold- 
ing it  by  means  of  a  spar  reaching  from  end  to  end.  With  this,  it  is  possible 
to  do  everything  that  an  ice-boat  can  be  expected  to  do.     But  the  crew  works 


EVERY  BOY  HIS   OWN  ICE-BOAT. 


315 


at  a  disadvantage :  the  steersman  can  see  only  one-half  as  much  as  he  ought  to 
see,  and  of  course  stands  in  constant  danger  of  collision.  To  lift  or  lower  the 
sail,  so  as  to  see  if  the  way  is  clear,  is  a  somewhat  awkward  operation. 

Another  difficulty  with  this  form  of  sail  is  that  its  spars  must  he  somewhat 
heavy,  in  order  to  bear  the  strain 
of  sufficient  bracing,  as  there  is  a 
tendency  on  the  part  of  the  sail  to 
twist  and  make  a  complete  wreck 
of  itself  and  crew.  The  latest  im- 
provement does  away  effectually 
with  both  these  imperfections,  and 
seems  to  provide  a  nearly  perfect 
device  for  skate-sailing. 

In  the  first  place,  the  sail  is 
divided  into  foresail  and  mainsail, 
so  that  the  crew  has  his  whole  course  in  plain  sight  between  the  two.  Secondly, 
the  main  spar  is  made  double,  so  that  it  affords  two  points  of  support  for  each  of 
the  '•  yards "  or  cross-pieces,  and  renders  the  whole  affair  so  strong  that  com- 
paratively light  spars  may  be  used.  In  the  diagram  given  above,  a  G  is  the 
main  spar,  from  eight  to  twelve  feet  long,  according  to  the  size  and  strength  of 
the  crew.  It  is  made  of  bamboo,  or  some  light  native  wood  like  spruce  or  pine. 
The  pieces  should  not  be  less  than  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter  in  the  middle. 
They  may  be  tapered  toward  the  ends,  but  one  side  of  each  should  be  left  flat. 


of  ne 


The  old  style  of  skate-sailing. 

Each  piece,  in  short,  is  shaped  like  an  archer's  bow,  much  lengthened.  The  flat 
sides  are  laid  together,  and  the  ends  at  a  and  G  are  lashed  firmly  with  strong 
twine.  In  or  near  each  end,  at  a  and  G,  is  set  a  button  to  hold  the  clew  — 
corner,  that  is  —  of  the  sail. 


316  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

Tlie  most  perfect  spar  yet  devised  is  made  of  four  pieces  of  bamboo,  with 
brass  fishiug-rod  ferrules  at  the  butts,  fitting  iuto  oue  another  at  m.  Brass 
tips  hold  the  smaller  ends  of  the  bamboos  together  at  a  and  G.  The  butts 
join  at  the  mitldle  of  tlie  si)aT,  which  can  thus  be  taken  to  pieces  and  easily 
carried. 

The  sails  are  made  from  the  lieaviest  cotton  sheeting  —  unbleached  is  best. 
Tack  the  material  smoothly  on  the  floor,  and  mark  out  the  sails,  making  ample 
allowance  for  heavy  hems.  Stitch  stout  tape  all  around  where  the  edges  are  to 
be,  and  have  the  hem  as  strong  as  possible,  especially  at  the  corners,  sewing 
through  the  tape  and  several  thicknesses  of  the  sheeting.  If  the  sails  are  to 
keep  their  shape,  the  tape  is  indispensable.  Stout  laid  cord  (cotton  or  hemp), 
sewn  around  the  edges  and  forming  small  loops  at  the  clews,  makes  a  desirable 
finish,  but  is  not  absolutely  necessary.  Instead,  small  brass  or  galvanized  rings 
may  be  sewn  to  the  clews.  These  rings  must  be  large  enough  to  catch  easily 
on  the  pins  or  knobs  in  the  spar-ends. 

The  sails  may  range  in  size  from  three  to  five  feet  square,  according  to  the 
size,  strength,  and  weight  of  the  skater.  It  is  not  difficult  to  arrange  them  for 
reefing,  but  they  are  so  easily  adjustable  to  the  wind  without  reefing,  that  this 
is  hardly  necessary. 

The  cross-yards  are  quite  light.  Bamboo,  five-eighths  of  an  inch  thick  at  the 
smaller  end,  is  probably  heavy  enough  for  the  largest  practicable  sail.  They 
must  be  made  three  or  four  inches  longer  than  the  diagonal  of  the  sail.  Near 
the  ends  of  the  yards  are  buttons  similar  to  those  on  the  spar.  To  the 
middle  of  each  yard  is  firmly  lashed  a  cleat,  from  three  to  five  inches  long  (k, 
in  diagram  on  page  315),  whose  ends  are  shaped  so  as  to  receive  and  hold  the 
two  pieces  of  the  main  spar  when  they  are  sprung  apart. 

Two  opposite  clews  of  the  sail  are  now  hooked  over  the  buttons  at  the  ends  of 
the  yard,  the  main  spar  is  sprung  apart  until  the  cleat  can  be  inserted  and  held 
at  right  angles  between  its  pieces,  as  at  J.  The  yard  is  pushed  along  until  the 
clew  of  the  sail  can  be  hooked  over  the  button  at  the  spar-end.  The  other  sail 
is  then  put  in  position  similarly  at  the  other  end  of  the  spar,  and  the  two  remain- 
ing clews,  at  c  and  e,  are  strained  together  with  a  strap  or  cord  as  tightly  as 
the  material  will  permit.  The  whole  affair  is  exceedingly  light,  strong,  and 
elastic,  and  will  stand  any  reasonable  strain. 

Such  is  the  rig.  Now  the  question  is  how  to  manage  it.  This  is  a  far  less 
complicated  matter  than  in  the  case  of  a  sail-boat,  although  the  principle  is  the 
same.  If  you  are  caught  by  a  squall,  aU  you  have  to  do  is  to  let  go  of  every- 
thing, and  your  sails  will  fall  flat  on  the  ice  and  await  your  pleasure. 

In  running  before  the  wiiul,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  hold  the  spar  across  the 
course  of  the  wind,  steer  with  your  feet,  and  go  as  fast  as  the  wind  does.  Y(»u 
can  vary  your  course  at  will  coiisidenibly  to  the  right  or  left  without  altering 
the  i)ositiou  of  the  sail. 


EVERY  BOY   HIS    OWN  ICE-BOAT. 


317 


Wlien  your  course  is  nearly  at  i-ii^^ht  angles  to  that  of  the  wind,  or  afjainst  it, 
you  will  naturally  take  the  spar  under  one  or  the  other  arm,  and  ])<)int  the  fore- 
sail more  or  less  in  the  direction  from  which  the  wind  comes. 

Let  us  call  this  second  diagram  a  pond,  with  the  wind  blowing  from  top  to 
bottom.     In  this  diagram,  the  black  spots  represent  tlie  skater,  the  arrows  the 

direction  in  whieli  Ik;  sails  under 
different  conditions,  and  the  long 
line,  etc.,  the  spar  and  sails.  In  his 
first  course  down  the  middle  of  the 
pond,  he  grasps  the  spar  by  the  mid- 
dle, or  holds  it  under  his  arms  behind 
him.  S(iuaring  away  with  his  back 
to  the  wind,  as  at  a,  he  sails  before 
it  to  the  lower  end  of  the  pond, 
moving  his  feet  only  for  the  purpose 
of  steering.  In  order  to  make  the 
wind  take  him  back  to  his  starting- 
point,  he  turns  his  sails  at  an  acute 
angle  to  the  course  of  the  wind,  as 
at  B,  t",  D,  and  E,  instead  of  across  it 
as  at  A.  If  pointed  nearly  as  at  B 
or  c,  it  will  carry  him  directly  across 
the  pond.  If  as  at  d  and  e,  it  will 
carry  him  more  or  less  up  the  pond, 
as  indicated  by  the  arrows.  When 
he  reaches  the  shore  on  one  tack, 
—  say  that  represented  by  e, —  he 


Diagi-am  for  tacking. 


''  goes  about,"  tlnit  is,  changes  the  direction  of  his  sails  so  that  they  point  as 
at  D.  The  wind  will  now  carry  him  on  a  slant  to  the  opposite  shore,  which  he 
will  reach  at  a  point  still  nearer  the  head  of  the  pond.  Thus,  by  zigzagging 
from  one  side  to  the  other,  now  on  one  tack  and  now  on  the  other,  he  may  work 
his  way  to  windward. 

Experiment  alone  can  show  each  individual  how  best  to  trim  his  sails,  whether 
to  carry  his  spar  under  his  windward  or  leeward  arm,  or  before  or  behind  him. 
Tastes  differ  in  all  these  particulars.  So,  in  going  about, —  changing,  that  is, 
from  one  tack  to  the  other, —  each  must  adopt  the  method  which  he  personally 
finds  most  convenient.  One,  perhaps,  will  pass  the  spar  over  his  head ;  another 
will  let  the  foresail  fall  off  to  leeward,  and  bring  up  the  mainsail  on  the  other 
side,  so  that  it  will  in  turn  become  the  foresail.  In  all  these  particulars,  each 
must  be  a  law  unto  himself;  but  in  regard  to  avoiding  collisions,  it  is  plainly 
necessary  to  have  a  general  understanding,  and  the  rnles  of  the  Hudson  Kiver 
Ice-Boat  Club,  adapted  to  skate-sailing,  are  perhaps  the  best. 


318  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

Rules  for  Skate-sailixg. 

I.  Skate-sailers  ou  the  poi-t  tack  inn^t  j^ive  way  to  those  on  the  starboard 
tack. 

II.  When  skate-sailers  are  moving  side  by  side  or  nearly  so,  on  the  same 
tack,  those  to  windward  must  give  way  to  those  to  leeward  when  requested  to 
do  so,  if  there  is  an  obstacle  in  the  course  of  the  leewardmost.  But  the  leeward 
skate-sailer  must  go  about  or  change  his  course  at  the  same  time  as  the  wind- 
ward skate-sailer,  or  as  soon  as  he  can  without  coming  into  collision.  The  new 
direction  must  be  kept,  at  least  until  the  obstacle  has  been  cleared. 

III.  When  skate-sailers  are  moving  side  by  side,  as  in  Rule  II.,  and  approach- 
ing a  windward  obstacle,  the  leewardmost  must  give  way  Avhen  requested  to  do 
so.  But  the  windwardmost  must  change  his  course  at  the  same  time  as  the 
leewardmost,  or  as  soon  as  he  can  do  so  without  coming  into  collision,  and  the 
new  direction  must  be  kept,  at  least  until  the  obstacle  has  been  cleared. 

IV.  When  skate-sailers  are  running  free,  it  rests  with  the  rearmost  ones  to 
avoid  collision. 

V.  Skate-sailers  running  free  must  always  give  way  to  those  on  either  tack. 
YI.  Skate-sailers  who  \'iolate  any  of  the  foregoing  rules  in  the  course  of  a 

race  shall  forfeit  all  claim  to  the  victory. 

VII.  A  touch,  whether  of  jjerson  or  of  rig,  constitutes  a  collision,  either  with 
another  skate-sailer  or  with  a  mark  or  buoy,  and  he  who  is  responsible  for  it, 
under  the  rules,  forfeits  all  claim  to  the  victory. 

VIII.  No  means  of  locomotion  other  than  that  afforded  by  the  wind  is  i)er- 
missible  during  a  race. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  are  not  familiar  with  sea-terms,  it  should  be 
stated  that  ''  running  free  "  means  sailing  before,  or  nearly  before,  the  wind. 
''  Close-hauled,"  or  "  on  the  wind,"  means  sailing  sharply  across  its  course. 
When  the  skater's  right  side  is  presented  to  the  wind,  he  is  on  the  starboard 
tack ;  when  his  left  side  is  presented  to  the  wind,  he  is  on  the  port  tack. 

The  possibility  of  using  the  sail  on  an  ordinary  coasting-sled  will  naturally 
occur  to  every  skater.  This  can  be  accomplished  Avitli  the  aid  of  a  few  addi- 
tional fixtures.  A  regular  ice-boat  has  three  runners,  two  in  front  and  one  in 
the  rear.  The  latter  is  pivoted,  so  that  it  can  be  turned  from  side  to  side  like 
the  rudder  of  a  boat,  and  used  in  like  manner  for  steering.  The  first  thing  to 
be  done  with  a  sled  is  to  provide  it  with  sharp  shoes,  which  will  not  slip  over 
the  ice  sidewise.  A  pair  of  skates,  or  skate-blades,  fastened  one  to  each  runner, 
near  the  bend,  are  as  good  as  anything.  Tlie  fitting  of  the  after-runner  is  a 
more  complicated  affair,  if  fastened  to  the  sled,  and  it  is  not  worth  while  to  give 
directions  for  it  here.  The  simplest  way  is  to  let  the  after  part  of  the  sled  rest 
on  its  own  proper  runners,  and  depend  ou  the  feet  for  steering,  or  use  a  stout 


EVERY  BOY  lilS   OWN  ICE-BOAT. 


aiy 


A  fleet  under  sail. 


stick  shod  with  iron.  A  bhxde-shaped  iron  is  best,  as  it  presents  an  edge  to 
the  ice. 

It  is  possible  to  kneel  on  the  sled  and  hold  the  sail  nnder  the  arm,  but  a  mast 
about  three  feet  high,  stepped  at  the  side  of  the  sled,  is  better.  If  but  one  mast 
is  carried,  it  must  be  arranged  so  that  it  can  be  readily  shifted  from  one  side 
to  the  other.  The  head  of  the  mast  is  crotched,  to  receive  the  upper  spar ;  or  a 
hook,  large  enough  to  hold  it,  is  inserted  an  inch  or  two  below  the  mast-head. 
The  lower  spar  rests  against  the  mast,  and  is  held  there  by  the  crew  with  one  of 
his  hands.  A  crew  of  two,  on  a  long  sled  of  the  so-called  "  pig-sticker  "  variety, 
can  do  pretty  work,  one  tending  the  sail  and  the  other  steering;  but  a  crew  of  one 
will  think  that  he  needs  at  least  two  extra  pairs  of  hands,  until  he  gets  the  knack 
of  the  thing. 

It  is  suggested  that  more  sail  can  be  carried  by  a  single  skater  if  his  yard- 
arms  are  shod  with  light  metal  disks,  so  that  they  can  be  allowed  to  rest  on  the 
ice  and  act  as  runners.  So  far  as  known,  this  has  not  been  actually  tried.  It 
looks  promising,  but  will  necessitate  rather  heavier  yards. 


FISH-SPEARING  THROUGH  THE   ICE 


By  J.  O.  Roorback. 


ABOUT  thirty  years  ago,  I  was  stranded  by  the  severe  winter  weather,  which 
_  put  a  stop  to  navigation,  at  the  old  army  station  of  Green  Bay,  now  a 
flourishing  city  in  the  great  State  of  Wisconsin,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Fox 
lliver,— at  the  south-western  extremity  of  a  long  arm  of  Lake  Michigan. 
Society  in  that  far-off  army  post,  though  cut  off  by  the  long  winter  from  the 
outside  world,  was  very  delightful  in  those  days,  and  the  good  times  I  had, 
both  indoors  and  out,  during  those  snow-bound  months,  I  have  never  forgotten. 
But  what  I  wish  especially  to  describe  for  the  boy  readers  is  a  curious  Indian 
custom  that  I  discovered  in  the  course  of  my  winter  rambles.  I  had  frequently 
noticed,  while  booming  along  the  ice  road  on  Fox  River  behind  one  of  the  fast  little 
French  ponies,  a  curious  lot  of  black  dots  on  the  ice,  in  the  retu-ed  nooks  and 
coves  along  the  farther  shore.  "  What  are  they  !  "  I  asked ;  and  the  invariable 
reply  was :  "  They  are  Indians  fishing."  This  puzzled  me  still  more,  and  I 
resolved  to  investigate.  So  one  day  I  crossed  the  frozen  river,  and,  approach- 
ing one  of  those  mysterious  black  dots,  found  it  to  be  apparently  only  a  bundle 
in  a  blanket,  scarcely  large  enough  to  contain  a  human  form.  But,  looking 
closer,  I  could  see,  first  from  one  bundle  and  then  from  another,  the  quick 
motion  of  a  pole,  or  spear-handle,  bobbing  up  and  down.  A  word,  a  touch, 
even  a  gentle  push,  only  called  out  a  grunt  in  reply ;  but  at  last  one  bundle  did 
stretch  itself  into  a  bright  young  Indian  brave  with  wondering  and  wonderful 
eyes  peering  at  me  from  under  a  mop  of  l)lack  and  glossy  hair.  A  little  tobacco, 
a  little  pantomime,  and  a  little  broken  English  succeeded  in  making  him  under- 
stand that  I  wished  to  know  how  he  carried  on  his  fishing  under  that  funny- 
looking  heap. 

Then  I  saw  it  all.  Seated,  Turk-iashion,  (»n  tlie  border  of  liis  l)lauket.  whirh 
he  could  thus  draw  up  so  as  to  entirely  envelop  himself  in  it,  he  was  completely 
in  the  dark,  so  far  as  the  daylight  is  concerned ;  and,  thus  enshrouded,  he  was 


FISH. SPEARING    THMOUGII   THE  ICE. 


321 


Indians  spear-tishing  for  pickerel  at  tht 
mouth  of  the  Fox  River,  Wisconsin. 


hovering-  al)ove  a  round  hole  in  the  ice, 
about  eighteen  inches  in  diameter.  A 
small  tripod  of  birch  sticks  erected  over 
the  hole  helped  to  hold  up  the  blanket 
and  steady  a  spear,  which,  with  a  delicate 
handle  nine  or  ten  feet  long,  was  held  in  / 

the  right  hand,  the  tines  resting  on  the 
edge   of   the   hole,    and    the   end   of  the 

pole  sticking  through  an  opening  in  the  blanket  above.     From  tlu^  other  1 
dropped  into  the  water  a  string,  on  the  end  of  which  was  a  rude  wooden  de 
fish,  small  enough  to  represent  bait  to  the  unsuspecting  perch  or  pickerel 
21 


and, 
coy- 
who 


322  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

should  spy  it.     This  decoy  was  loaded  so  as  to  sink  slowly,  and  was  so  moved 
and  maneuvered  as  to  imitate  the  motions  of  a  living  fisli. 

Crawling  under  the  blanket  with  my  Indian  friend,  I  was  surprised  at  the 
distinctness  and  beauty  with  which  everything  could  be  seen  by  the  subdued 
light  that  came  up  through  the  ice.  The  bottom  of  the  river,  six  or  eight  feet 
below  us,  was  clearly  visible,  and  seemed  barely  four  feet  away.  The  grasses, 
vegetable  growths,  and  spots  of  pebbly  bottom  formed  curious  little  vistas  and 
recesses,  in  some  of  which  dreamily  floated  a  school  of  perch  and  smaller  fish. 
Each  little  air-bubble  sparkled  like  a  gem,  and  the  eye  delighted  in  tracing  and 
watching  the  mystery  of  beautiful  water  formations,  where  every  crevice  seemed 
a  little  fairy  world,  with  changing  lights  or  shadows  made  by  the  sunlight 
through  the  transparent  ice. 

The  wooden  decoy-fish,  meanwhile,  was  being  delicately  handled  by  the 
Indian  fisherman,  now  raised  gently  to  the  top  of  the  water,  then  sinking 
slowly.  The  very  action  of  sinking  and  the  position  of  its  artificial  fins  made 
it  run  forward,  now  this  way,  now  that,  until  it  really  seemed  alive. 

Suddenly,  from  somewhere,  I  could  not  tell  where,— it  seemed  to  come  by 
magic, —  a  large  '^  dory,"  or  "  moon-eyed  pike,"  appeared  on  the  river-bottom. 
The  watchful  Indian  slowly  raised  the  decoy-bait  toward  the  surface,  the  larger 
fish  following  it  with  interested  and  puzzled  eyes.  There  was  a  sudden  move- 
ment of  the  spear ;  down  it  darted ;  its  sharp  prongs  pierced  the  unsuspecting 
pike,  which  was  speedily  drawn  up  and  thrown  wriggling  on  the  ice.  Then 
the  blanket  was  re-adjusted,  and  the  fishing  was  resumed.  My  bright  young 
Indian  friend  said  he  could  catch  from  twenty  to  thirty  pounds  of  fish  in  an 
afternoon  in  this  manner,  and  sometimes  could  even  secure  double  that  quantity. 

So  ingenious  and  exciting  a  method  of  fishing  interested  me  greatly,  and 
when,  years  after,  I  again  visited  Green  Bay,  with  two  bright  boys  and  zealous 
fishermen  of  my  own,  we,  with  some  other  wide-awake  young  fellows,  adapted 
the  Indian  method  of  fishing  —  which  was  somewhat  too  rough  to  be  literally 
followed  — to  suit  the  abilities  and  ingenuities  of  civilized  American  lads. 
Since  then  the  two  boys  have  put  our  experiment  into  practical  use  on  some  of 
the  best-known  pickerel  ponds  of  New  Jersey,  and  at  one  time  they  came  out 
ahead  in  a  fishing-match  against  two  men  with  several  set  lines  each. 

For  such  boys,  therefore,  as  have  interest  or  opportunity  for  such  sport,  I 
will  describe  this  mode  of  fishing,  in  detail. 

In  the  first  place,  we  built  a  house  or  shelter,—  a  grand  improvement  upon 
the  Indian  blanket, —  making  it  possil)le  for  the  sport  to  be  comfortable,  as  well 
as  exciting  and  interesting.  This  shelter,  wliieli  can  be  made  of  any  convenient 
boards  from  an  inch  to  an  inch  and  a  half  thick,  was  about  four  feet  liigh,  four 
feet  long,  and  thi*ee  feet  wide  at  the  bottom,  and  two  feet  long  and  eighteen 
inches  wide  at  the  top.  The  front  only  of  the  shelter  was  perpendicular,  which 
caused  the  other  three  sides  to  .slant.     We  left  a  four-inch  square  hole  in  the 


FISH-SrKABING   TllUorcil    Till-:   ICE. 


82:5 


top,  which  was  lovd  ai)<)ut  three  inclies  from  the  slanting  end,  so  that  the  spear 
which  passed  tlirough  it,  woukl  come  ahout  over  the  center  of  the  bottom.  T( 
cover  this  hole  we  used  a  block  one  foot  square,  with  a  three-inch  hole  in  th 
middle.  To  exclude  light  from  around  the  spear,  we  tacked  a  clotli  fvinml  t( 
the  outer  edges  of  the  block,  firmly 

=      1        \il^ 


Fi}?.  1. —  Diagram  of  the  ppear. 


fastening  it  with  inch  square  strips 
nailed  on.  This  funnel  was  long  ^ 
enough  to  exclude  the  light  by 
rumpling  or  wrinkling  around  the 
pole,  while  the  opening  was  loose  enough  to  admit  of  free  and  vigorous 
action.  The  illustration  on  page  324  affords  the  best  description  of  the 
house,  which  can,  of  course,  be  modified  to  suit  the  tastes  or  convenience  of 
any  one  who  may  choose  to  build  a  little  structure  of  the  kind.  One  of  my 
friends  uses  a  six-foot-square  house  with  a  floor,  a  seat,  and  a  small  charcoal 
stove;  he  can  thus  enjoy  a  change  of  position,  his  pipe,  or  book,  at  leisure,  at 
such  times  as  the  fish  are  not  running.  The  best  time  for  the  sport  is  just 
before  and  just  after  sunset. 

Of  course,  no  floor  is  necessary,  and  any  block  or  bit  of  board  which  raises 
the  sportsman  a  few  inches  from  the  ice  would  serve  for  a  seat. 

I  must  add,  by  way  of  caution,  that  every  hole  or  crack  in  the  box  should  be 
covered  ;  as  a  direct  ray  of  light  not  only  obstructs  the  vision,  but  prevents  fish 
from  coming  to  the  hole.  Any  opening  that  may  be  discovered  after  setting  up 
the  box  on  the  ice  can  be  closed  with  a  handful  of  snow. 

The  tines  of  the  spears  which  we  used  were  made  of  quarter-inch,  round  iron ; 
and  for  fish  weighing  two  or  three  pounds,  three-sixteenths  or  one-eighth  iron 
will  answer.  I  have  caught  four  and  five  pound  pickerel  on  a  spear  of  one- 
eighth  inch  iron,  with  tines  four  inches  long.  If  quarter-inch  iron  is  used, 
the  tines  should  be  six  inches  long;  if  one-eighth  inch,  four  inches  will  be 
long  enough.  Any  blacksmith  can  make  these  tines  with  barbs  as  shown 
in  the  diagram  above  (Fig.  1).  We  had  the  tines  pointed  and  bent  at  the 
upper  end,  so  as  to  be  driven  into  the  handle,  as  sliown  by  the  dotted  lines. 


Fig.  2. 


Diaacraius  of  tlio  artific 


Our  spear-handles  were  made  from  straight  pine  or  spruce  shingle  laths 
about  one  and  a  quarter  inches  wide,  tapering  from  the  thickness  of  the  lath  at 
one  end,  to  three-fourths  of  an  inch  at  the  other.  They  may  be  from  nine  to 
twelve  feet  in  length  —  but  a  good  average  is  ten  feet. 


324 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 


Boy  spearers  on  a  New  Jersey 
pickerel  pond. 

The  handle  should  be  grooved  so  that  the 
tines  may  be  sunk  at  least  half-way  into  it,  to 
prevent  slipping  or  twisting.  They  should 
be  lashed  very  tightly  and  carefully  to  the 
pole  with  stove-pipe  wire  or  any  other  mal- 
leable wire. 

The  artificial  l)ait  or  niiuuow,  of  Avhicli 
two  outline  figures  are  given  on  page  323, 
we  whittled  out  of  pine.  They  were  three  or  four  inches  long,  and  in  \m\i- 
portions  as  drawn.  In  the  side-view  (Fig.  2),  the  dotted  and  shaded  part,  a, 
shows  the  shape  and  proportion  of  a  hollow,  opening  from  below,  to  be  run  full 
of  melted  lead ;  we  made  this  hollow  larger  at  the  toj),  so  that  the  lead  would 
not  drop  out,  and  poured  in  enough  lead  to  sink  the  minnow  rapidly.  After 
cutting  out  the  hole,  and  before  running  in  the  lead,  we  drove  in  the  side-fins, 
which  we  cut  from  bits  of  tin  with  a  pair  of  strong  scissors.     The  dotted  lines 


FlS!I-SPEARiy<r    THlWUGll    THE   ICE.  325 

in  Fi<;-.  :{  show  how  tliese  fius  met  in  the  center  of  the  space  which  held  the  lead. 
The  lead  thus  held  the  fins,  and  the  fins  kept  the  lead  more  securely  in  place.  The 
back-fin,  c,  was  also  cut  from  tin  and  driven  into  a  slit  made  with  a  knife  along 
the  back.  A  bent  pin  made  the  small  staple,  h,  which  was  set  over  the  center  of 
the  lead  and  just  ahead  of  the  back  fin.  We  definitely  settled  the  position  of  the 
staple  by  tying  a  fine  fish-line  to  it  and  experimenting  in  a  pail  of  water.  When 
the  fish  hung  perfectly  level,  the  staple  was  in  the  proper  position.  By  pulling 
the  string,  the  resistance  of  the  water  on  the  side-fins  caused  the  fish  to  shoot 
ahead;  and  on  slacking  the  thread,  it  also  shot  ahead  while  sinking;  in  this 
way,  by  giving  the  thread  little  short  jerks  and  alternately  lifting  and  lowering, 
we  made  our  decoy-bait  to  play  about  in  very  fish-like  motions.  The  minnows 
may  be  painted  white,  with  the  back  a  dark  greenish  gray. 

The  bait  should  be  raised  and  lowered  a  few  inches,  by  little  half-inch  jerks, 
but  only  for  a  few  minutes  at  a  time ;  every  once  in  a  while,  it  may  be  raised 
quickly  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  hole.  Here  it  should  be  made  to  swim  and 
glide  about,  in  whatever  way  it  will,  while  sinking  to  a  depth  of  three  or  four 
feet.  Then  it  should  be  guided  in  a  circle  around  the  outer  limit  as  far  as  can 
be  seen,  then  returned  to  the  center,  about  three  or  four  feet  down  ;  and  again, 
kept  almost  still.  Now,  when  the  fish  appears,  gradually  lift  the  bait  with  one 
hand,  and  with  the  other  take  the  spear,  and  poise  it  over  the  fisli,  letting  it 
gently  slide  through  the  hand  and  approach  the  fisherman,  while  he  attracts 
his  intended  victim  with  the  motions  of  the  bait. 

When  the  spear  is  about  eighteen  inches  or  a  foot  from  the  fish's  back,  being 
careful  to  keep  the  hand  raised,  the  boy  should  strike  it  suddenly  and  he  will 
be  apt  to  catch.     A  few  failures  must  be  expected,  at  first. 

If  a  lad  feel  nervous  and  uncertain,  and  can  not  use  both  hands  as  described, 
let  him  throw  the  line  over  the  left  knee  so  as  to  hold  the  minnow  just  over  the 
fish,  which  will  probably  remain  long  enough  for  him  to  lower  the  spear  gently 
with  both  hands  and  to  strike  with  certainty. 

During  a  snow-storm  or  on  a  partly  cloudy  day,  or  just  before  and  after  sunset, 
are  the  best  times  for  successful  sport. 

It  will  not  be  difficult  to  see ;  for,  if  the  box  shuts  out  all  outside  light,  it  will 
be  beautifully  transparent  and  clear  below,  even  until  late  in  the  evening.  If 
the  ice  is  covered  with  snow,  it  should  be  cleared  away  for  a  space. 

A  thick  overcoat  should  be  worn,  although  the  animal  heat  in  the  box  will 
make  the  spearman  warm  enough,  and  sometimes  too  warm.  I  have  fished 
comfortaldy  when  the  thermometer  was  ten  degrees  below  zero. 

The  door  of  the  house  should  be  on  the  left  hand  of  the  spearman,  who  should 
sit  with  his  back  to  the  perpendicular  end.  When  he  catches  a  fish  he  unbuttons 
the  door,  pokes  the  fish  outside,  pulls  the  spear  in,  and  resumes  fishing. 

This  fish-spearing  can  be  combined  with  a  day's  skating  and  other  amusements, 
and  will  give  many  a  boy  a  good  day's  sport  which  lie  will  long  remember. 


OUTDOOE    SKETCHES 


IVbo  would  not  he  a  boj^  ? 
Byron. 


HUNTING  JAC  K-RxVBBITS 


Bv  A  Boy. 


o 


|UT  ill  Kansas,  we  have  rare  sport 
huutiug  jack-rabbits.  Eastern  boys 
can  hardly  guess  how  mnch  excitement 
there  is  in  it.  We  have  other  game,  of 
course.  Deer  and  antelopes  are  quite  com- 
mon in  Edwards  and  other  south-western 
counties ;  and  the  wolves  that  prowl  over 
the  prairies  are  worse  for  our  sheep  and 
calves  than  bears  are,  or  ever  were,  in  New 
England. 

But  the  greatest  sport  of  all  is  hunting 
jack-rabbits.  We  hunt  them  on  horse- 
back, with  greyhounds.  All  the  settlers  in  our  section  keep  one  or  more  gi*ey- 
hounds  on  purpose  to  hunt  jack-rabbits.  I  went  fox-hunting  twice,  with 
hounds,  in  Maine,*  and  did  not  havt^  half  the  fun  that  I  have  had  out  here,  in 
Kansas,  hunting  ^'  jacks." 

Our  jack- rabbit,  I  should  say,  is  no  such  little  scrub  as  the  Massachusetts 
rabbit,  or  even  the  Maine  hare.  Jack  is  quite  a  beast,  and  makes,  roast  or 
stewed,  a  pretty  good  dish.  Many  a  settler's  family  lived  on  jacks,  after  the 
grasshoppers  came.  Our  rabbit  has  Idack  legs  and  l)lack  ears,  and  a  blackish 
head.  When  he  stands  up  on  his  haunches,  for  a  look  around,  he  is  nearly  three 
feet  tall.  His  tail  is  long,  and  that  is  black,  too.  But  the  body  is  a  brownish 
gra}'.  I  have  seen  jacks  almost  as  large  as  a  small  goat.  Now  and  then  one 
comes  across  a  tremeudoiisly  large  one, —  so  big  and  tall  and  long-eared,  and 
so  awfully  clumsy-looking,  as  fairly  to  make  a  fellow  stare,  even  when  lie  is 
used  to  jacks.  Generally,  however,  they  do  not  weigh  more  than  fifteen  or 
twenty  pounds. 

*  The  iiarratoi'  emigrated  to  Kansas  fi'om  Maine  when  fifteen  rears  old. 


330  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

• 

These  jaek-rabbits  live  riglit  out  on  the  open  prairie  and  along  the  shallow 
river-valleys,  where  there  is  not  a  bush  nor  a  tree  anywhere  in  sight.  Most  of 
the  grass,  except  by  the  streams,  is  buffalo-grass, —  a  short,  curly,  fine  grass  ; 
but  scattered  about  are  seen  bunches,  or  rings,  of  taller  grass,  two  and  a  half  or 
three  feet  high.  These  rings  of  high  grass  are  eoninionly  not  larger  across  than 
a  bushel-basket,  but  quite  thick.  And  right  inside  of  the  grass  rings  is  where 
the  jacks  hide.  They  hide  in  there,  curled  up,  cuddled  warm  out  of  the  prairie 
wind,  and  well  out  of  sight,  too.  You  scarcely  ever  see  a  jack  stirring  on  the 
prairie  in  the  daytime,  even  in  places  where  they  are  really  very  numerous. 
Those  grass  bunches  are  so  thick  that  you  may  pass  close  to  one  and  not  see  the 
jack  cuddled  up  in  the  middle  of  it ;  and  if  he  sees  you,  he  will  not  stir,  unless 
you  kick  or  strike  into  the  grass.  Then  out  he  goes,  ten  feet  at  one  jump;  and, 
clumsy  as  he  looks,  there  is  nothing  that  runs  which  can  catch  him,  if  he  gets 
twenty  yards  start, —  not  even  a  greyhound.  Away  he  flies,  like  an  old  felt  hat 
flopping  along  the  ground  before  the  wind ;  and  you  think  that  the  hound  will 
catch  him  in  no  time  ;  but  he  doesn't.  Jack  keeps  just  about  two  jumps  ahead, 
and  will  run  one  mile,  or  two,  or  all  day,  just  as  you  like.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  tiring  one  down,  when  once  he  has  had  a  good  fair  start,  and  has  had  a 
chance  to  get  his  eyes  fairly  open  and  catch  his  wind.  The  only  way  we  ever 
catch  jack-rabbits  with  hounds  is  to  take  them  by  surprise,  before  they  have 
time  to  lay  themselves  out  for  good  steady  leaping. 

I  have  often  laughed  to  see  a  wolf  hunt  jack-rabbits.  The  wolf  will  sneak 
along,  crouched  close  to  the  ground,  and  work  up  to  a  ring  of  grass,  then 
give  a  sudden  jump  right  into  the  midst  of  it.  About  one  time  in  fifty  he  will 
manage  to  seize  the  sleeping  jack.  But  commonly  the  rabbit  will,  in  some 
mysterious  way,  leap  out  from  under  the  wolf's  very  nose,  and  go  twenty  or 
thii-ty  feet,  as  if  propelled  by  a  single  kick,  then  stop  and  look.  The  wolf  knows 
that  the  game  is  up.  I  once  saw  a  wolf  sit  down  and  look  hard  at  a  rabbit,  and 
sniff  him  longingly ;  and  the  jack,  not  yet  half  awake,  sat  and  winked.  But 
the  wolf  turned  away  and  went  to  another  bunch  of  grass.  He  knew  better 
than  to  waste  his  strength  chasing  a  jack-rabbit. 

The  way  we  used  to  hunt  jacks  was  to  start  out — eight  or  ten  of  us — on  our 
ponies  (and  there  are  no  horses  in  this  country  fleeter  than  some  of  those  Texas 
ponies),  with  all  the  greyhounds  we  could  muster, —  sometimes  fifteen  or  twenty 
of  them.  Riding  out  on  the  prairie,  we  would  now  string  out  in  a  line,  with  the 
dogs  all  running  dose  beside  the  ponies,  and  go  at  a  gallop  for  those  rings  of 
tall  grass.  Just  as  some  pony's  forefeet  were  going  into  a  bunch  of  tall  grass, 
out  would  leap  a  rabbit.  The  greyhounds  would  be  at  close  hauls,  not  two  yards 
from  the  rabbit's  tail;  and  everybody  knows  how  a  greyhound  will  buckle  down 
to  the  ground  and  run,  without  so  much  as  a  ///;).  The  jack,  waked  up  so 
suddeidy,  would  not  have  time  to  straighten  out  for  long  leaps,  and  would  tack, 
first  right,  then  left.     In  that  way  he  would  dodge  one  hound,  but  in  dodging 


HUNTING  JACK-liAniiirs.  331 

oue,   another  would  g-rab  liiiii.      That  was  the  way  we  used  to  liuiit  thcni. 
Souietiuies  we  would  by  this  plan  catch  eighteen  or  twenty  in  an  Innir.     Oh,  it 
was  live  sport !     Such  shouting  and  cheering  on  !     Three  or  four  jacks  going 
at  once,  and  all  crazy  after  them,  at  a  dead  run  !     The  ponies  would  chase 
as  eagerly  as  the  grey- 
hounds.   Why,  I  have        ^t^^  "•■'; 
seen    more   excitement       ^r'-                   .-".  ^-^L  -        "V;,  .  . 
and    more    downright,           ,1  ';         it'^-i^T'^ 

laughable  fun  in  a  jack-  ''  -    ^       '.: '    "^^i®^  ^ .  ,    ■ 

rabbit    hunt    than     in       ;^^  ,^  ;^^  ;;  .  •■,- 

anything    else    I    ever      .j^;.,  '^^   \  \-'•-".S■''-ie^^yi^^^  --     ■•^■     ■    ,  >—  s 

But     it     is     not     the  '-Out  would  Irap  a  rabbit." 

safest  business  in  the  world  —  riding  at  full  spring  and  at  a  venture  across 
the  prairie ;  for,  one  is  always  liable  to  run  into  a  ''  buffalo-wallow "  or 
break  through  into  some  old  burrow.  Our  Texas  ponies  were  pretty  sure- 
footed little  fellows ;  but,  of  course,  if  a  horse  broke  into  a  deep  hole  he 
would  go  down  in  a  heap,  and  his  rider  would  go  headlong  on  the  ground. 
I  once  got  a  tremendous  "  fore-re acher "  of  this  sort.  And  here  I  should 
explain,  perhaps,  that  a  '^  buffalo-wallow "  is  not  a  slough,  nor  a  pig-mire, 
but  just  a  dry  hole  where  a  bison  has  got  down  and  dug  with  his  horns,  and 
rolled  and  plowed  himself  into  the  dirt,  either  to  get  rid  of  flies  or  vermin,  or 
else,  perhaps,  from  some  desire  to  get  the  fresh  earth  into  his  hair. 

The  winter  after  the  grasshoppers  came,  my  brother  and  I  started  a  '*■  bone- 
team."  We  were  about  cleaned  out  in  the  way  of  money ;  we  had  land  and  lean 
cattle,  but  nothing  to  eat.  So  we  rigged  up  an  old  prairie-schooner  (large  wagon) 
and  put  our  ponies  to  it  and  went  into  the  business  of  drawing  bones.  Per- 
haps, too,  I  need  to  explain  what  a  bone-team  is.  On  those  prairies  where 
buffalo  and  deer  and  antelope  have  run  so  many  years,  there  are  vast  quantities 
of  old  bones  lying  about.  In  many  tracts  the  ground  is  fairly  covered  with 
them  ;  and  in  the  winter  and  spring,  when  the  grass  is  off  and  the  sun  shining, 
the  plain  at  a  distance  looks  white  as  if  covered  with  frost  or  ice.  The  turf  is 
full  of  bones  of  all  sorts  and  sizes ;  and  scattered  about  are  some  enonnous 
buffalo  skulls,  with  the  short,  thick  horns  still  in  them. 

These  old  bones  are  of  some  commercial  value.  At  almost  every  station  of 
the  railroads  across  the  plains  there  is  an  agency  for  the  purchase  of  bones. 
They  are  taken  East  and  manufactured  into  fertilizers,  like  superphosphate  of 

lime.     The  price   paid  that  year  at  the  stations  of  E County,  was  five 

dollars  per  ton.  My  brother  and  I  drew  in  rather  over  a  hundred  tons  during 
the  winter.  It  is  no  great  job  to  pick  up  a  ton  of  those  bones  in  many  places, 
but  we  had  to  haul  ours  nearly  twenty  miles  ;  for,  the  most  of  the  land  near  the 
railway  has  now  been  taken  up,  or  at  least  cleared  of  bones.     It  was  a  three- 


332  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

days'  trip  to  go  out  on  tlie  ])laiiis  and  get  a  load.  Witli  our  team  of  six  ponies, 
we  commonly  drew  in  three  tons.  While  out  on  these  bone  trips,  we  made 
considerable  account  of  jack-rabbits ;  we  had  two  greyhounds  on  purpose  to 
hunt  them,  and  to  hunt  antelopes.  I  did  most  of  the  hunting;  my  brother  was 
a  little  lame  that  season  from  a  "  hoist "  he  had  received  off  a  reaper.  We  had 
one  of  the  fleetest  ponies  for  running  I  have  ever  seen.  In  color  she  was  so 
light  as  almost  to  look  silvery,  and  had  both  her  forelegs  white.  Her  hair  was 
very  short  and  thin.  She  was  slim  and  trig  —  oh,  a  delicate  little  creature !  In 
weight  she  was  not  much  above  seven  hundred  pounds  ;  but  ah  !  she  woidd  skim 
those  plains  like  a  goshawk.     We  called  her  Gilly. 

I  would  get  up  before  sunrise,  call  in  Sport  and  Grip  (the  two  greyhounds), 
then  mount  Gilly,  and  start  after  a  jack  for  breakfast.  One  morning  we  got 
after  a  pretty  big  jack,  and  ran  him  out  past  a  large  white-topped  ''schooner," 
where  an  emigrant  party  had  hauled  up  for  the  night.  Two  men  and  a  woman 
were  stirring  about  it ;  and  I  saw  two  nice,  rosy  girls  peering  out  of  the  back 
end  of  the  wagon.  They  looked  so  inspiring  that  I  thought  I  would  show  them 
a  little  fancy  riding.  So  I  touched  GiUy  and  told  her  to  go.  At  that,  she  just 
reached  out  those  white  legs  of  hers  and  straightened  to  it.  Oh,  she  went  like 
an  arrow  after  the  hounds  and  past  that  schooner,  and  away  on  across  the 
prairie.  And,  right  in  the  midst  of  her  keenest  run,  she  broke  into  a  wolf -hole  ! 
Believe  it  or  not,  the  mare  turned  a  complete  somersault !  But  I  was  n't  in  the 
saddle  when  she  turned  it :  I  had  gone  on,  and  went  on ;  went  on  my  head, 
went  on  my  knees,  went  every  way.  I  was  more  than  fifty  feet  from  the  pony 
when  I  finally  stopped  !  Sport  and  Grip  pidled  up  to  see  me  go,  and  the  jack, — 
he  stopped  and  looked.  The  wolf  came  out  of  the  ground  and  looked,  too. 
They  were  all  so  interested  in  it  that  they  entirely  forgot  each  other.  And 
back  at  the  schooner  I  saw  six  or  seven  men,  women  and  girls,  stand- 
ing motionless,  with  their  mouths  open.  When  I,  at  leng-th,  got  up,  such 
a  "  ha !  ha  ! "  came  wafted  on  the  wind  as  I  shall  not  soon  forget.  It  hurt 
me  outrageously.  I  got  up,  feeling  as  if  I  were  a  hundred  and  one  years 
old.  As  for  the  jack, —  well,  he  had  taken  leave;  and  the  dogs  were  barking 
into  the  wolf -hole. 

Another  young  fellow,  named  Adney  Clark,  and  myself,  once  ran  a  jack- 
rabbit  under  a  settlei-'s  house,  which  stood  out  by  itself  on  the  prairie.  The 
rabbit  ran  up  to  it  and  crawled  under  the  sill.  The  hounds  could  not  get  imder. 
We  went  round  the  house  and  then  into  it.  There  was  no  one  at  home.  We 
were  determined  to  have  that  jack,  anyhow.  So  we  pulU-d  up  two  or  three 
boards  of  the  floor,  and  Ad  took  the  fire-poker  and  got  down  under  the  floor  to 
poke  out  the  jack.  He  had  not  been  down  there  long  when  he  uttered  a  screech 
and  came  out  at  one  jump,  with  a  great  big  rattlesnake  hanging  to  his  boot- 
leg !  I  grabbed  a  chair  and  killed  the  snake.  Ad  was  so  weak  he  could  not 
stand  alone  and  could  scarcely  speak.     I  pidled  off  his  boot.     But  there  was  no 


H  UN  TING  J  A  CK  -  HA  li  HITS'. 


333 


But  I  was  u't  iu  the  .saddle.     I  went  on." 


mark  on  him.  Fortunately,  the  snake  had  only  bitten  his  boot-leg.  "^^'e  then 
poked  out  the  jack  and  the  hounds  gi-abbed  him. 

And  at  another  time,  when  eight  or  ten  of  us  were  out  racing  down  jacks, 
with  as  many  as  thirteen  hounds,  we  all  got  after  one  big  fellow,  and  at  length 
ran  him  into  an  old  deserted  "  dig-out." 

A  "  dig-out,"  or  "  root-out,"  is  a  house  dug  in  the  ground,  and  the  floor  of  it 
is  often  four  or  five  feet  below  the  level  of  the  soil.  The  door  of  this  one  was 
gone.  The  jack,  being  pretty  hard  run,  darted  in  there.  In  went  the  whole 
pack  of  hounds  after  him,  and  there  was  no  end  of  a  pow-wow.  Round  and 
about  they  went,  yelping  and  growling  down  there  in  the  dark.  "We  thought 
there  would  n't  be  much  left  of  that  jack,  when,  by  and  by,  out  he  came  and 
leaped  away,  leaving  all  the  hounds  in  there  tumbling  over  one  another ;  and 
the  end  of  the  business  was  that  we  had  to  go  iu  and  haul  those  dogs  out  l)y 
the  legs. 


LANDING  THE  'LONGE 


By  Frederick  Ford. 


A  FEW  summers  ago,  while  I  was  one  of  a  jolly  camp  of  hunters  among 
Canadian  woods  and  waters,  I  had  as  my  special  guide  and  boatman  a 
bright  young  thirteen-year-old  Canadian  lad  named  Pierre.  He  was  as  brave  and 
as  handy  as  any  backwoods  guide  and  trapper,  and  many  a  bass  we  landed  and 
many  a  duck  we  bagged. 

One  morning,  while  the  captain  went  to  the  village  for  letters,  and  Selby 
plunged  into  the  woods  to  look  for  ruffed  grouse  or  '^  partridge,"  Pierre  and  I 
made  arrangements  for  fishing.  We  went  to  a  little  branch  falling  into  the 
lake  back  of  our  island,  and  with  a  seine  improvised  of  a  bit  of  canvas,  caught 
a  number  of  minnows,  which  I  kept  alive  in  a  tin  pail  until  wanted  for  use. 
Then  we  paddled  into  the  creek  where  we  had  seen  bass  the  day  before,  and 
shoved  the  canoe  into  the  reeds.  I  had  a  ten-foot  rod  with  a  reel  and  plenty  of 
line ;  so,  passing  a  hook  through  the  upper  and  lower  jaws  of  a  minnow,  I  made 
a  long  cast  into  deep  water,  and  let  the  little  fish  swim  about  at  its  own  pleasure. 
I  had  almost  despaired,  when  the  line  was  suddenly  tightened.  Striking  by  a 
quick  turn  of  the  wrist,  I  felt  my  fish,  and  Pierre  with  a  landing-net  so(m  had 
him  floundering  in  the  canoe ;  it  was  a  bass,  and  weighed  about  two  pounds. 
We  took  two  more  and  then  they  stopped  biting.  I  put  away  my  rod,  and  Pierre 
soon  pulled  me  around  at  the  other  side  of  the  island.  There  was  a  good  breeze 
blowing,  so  I  ran  out  my  trolling-line,—  a  long,  heavy  cord  to  be  held  in  the 
hand.  Instead  of  a  minnow,  I  attached  a  spoon  bait,—  silver  on  one  side,  cop- 
per on  the  other,  and  suspended  above  a  group  of  three  stout,  wicked-looking 
hooks  ornamented  with  a  bit  of  red  flannel  tied  about  with  tinsel.  When  trailed 
behind  a  moving  boat,  this  spoon  revolves  or  spins  about  the  hooks,  and  is  sup- 
posed to  lo(jk  like  a  small  fish. 


LANDIXG    THE  'LONGE. 


335 


After  paddling  up  and  down  the  outside  of  a  long  bed  of  weeds,  we  took  one 
small  bass  ;  then  I  had  Pierre  land  nie  on  the  ledge  of  roek,  from  whence,  with 
my  rod,  I  could  drop  a  minnow  at  the  edge  of  the  weeds,  while  he  went  back  to 
trolling.  Half  an  hour  passed,  and 
just  as  I  was  drawing  in  my  min- 
now for  a  last  cast,  there  came  a 
vicious  tug  at  the  line,  and  my  reel 
spun  around  to  a  merry  tune,  while 
the  rod  bent  like  a  bow  under  the 
strain;  the  tension  slackened  a 
little,  and  I  hastened  to  reel  in  the 
slack  line  as  a  big  bass  leaped 
from  the  water  in  the  effort  to  free 
itself  of  the  hook. 

''  Bring  the  landing-net,"  I  shout- 
ed to  Pierre,  who  was  a  short  dis- 
tance off  in  the  channel. 

He  started  to  haul  in  his  spoon  so 
as  not  to  get  it  caught  in  the  weeds, 
and  had  drawn  it  within  twenty 
feet  of  the  canoe,  when  I  saw  him 
make  a  quick  grab  at  the  line,  and 
the  next  instant  the  white  body  of 
an  enormous  niuskallonge  rose  to 
view  and  disappeared  with  a  plunge. 

"  I  've  got  him,"  Pierre  screamed. 

*'  Keep  the  line  tight  on  him ; 
never  mind  the  paddle,"  I  shouted. 

Pierre's  hands  held  like  a  \dce, 
and  the  canoe,  towed  by  the  huge 
fish,  started  toward  the  open  lake ; 
meantime,  my  bass  was  leaping  and 
plunging,  but  I  kept  the  line  short 
and  tight,  and  the  top  of  the  rod 
well  up  so  as  to  allow  it  the  spring 
of  the  rod  only  for  plaj',  wishing  to  tire  it  as  quickly  as  possiV)le ;  and  all  tlie 
time  I  shouted  encouragement  to  Pierre.  My  fish  refused  to  be  conciuered 
without  a  stubborn  fight ;  and  time  and  again  I  had  to  give  it  line  to  prevent 
it  from  breaking  away,  so  that  it  required  my  whole  attention. 


He  was  standing  erect  in  the  canoe,  his  arms  outstretched,  and  the  line  tight 
as  a  bow-string,  coming  straight  up  the  channel  again,  and  looking  like  the  man  in 


336  JBOY.S'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

the  circus  doing  the  great  bareback  tandem  act.  I  had  left  the  rocks  and  brought 
my  fish  up  to  a  sloping  gravel  beacli.  Here,  wading  in  a  few  feet,  I  succeeded  in 
gripping  it  and  tossing  it  out  upon  the  shore, —  a  good  six-pounder.  "While 
killing  the  bass  I  heard  a  tremendous  splash  by  the  'longe,  and,  looking  round, 
saw  the  canoe  rocking  idly  upon  the  water,  and  Pierre  nowhere  visible. 

"■  Pierre,"  I  shouted,  as  I  threw  off  my  coat  to  plunge  in.  His  black  head  came 
up  beyond  the  canoe,  and  he  cried : 

''I  'm  all  right,  sir;  I  can  feel  bottom"  ;  as  he  spoke  he  floundered  into  shal- 
low water,  where  it  was  hardly  waist-deep.     Then  he  added,  sorrowfully  : 

"  I  've  lost  the  'longe ;  I  must  have  let  go  the  line  when  he  jerked  me  out." 

I  did  not  regret  the  loss  of  the  fish,  being  thankful  that  the  capsize  did  not 
occur  in  deep  water.  Pierre  was  upon  a  little  reef,  and  the  canoe  was  being 
blown  slowly  toward  me  by  the  wind,  so  that  I  would  soon  be  able  to  take  him 
out  of  his  cold  bath.  Suddenly,  the  canoe  veered  round  with  a  jerk,  and  started 
rapidly  in  Pierre's  direction,  and  against  the  wind.  Then  I  remembered  haA-ing 
tied  the  end  of  the  line  to  the  canoe,  and  I  knew  at  once  the  fish  was  still  fast  and 
liable  to  carry  the  canoe  out  into  the  lake  again.  The  situation  was  sufficiently 
serious,  and  I  called  to  Pierre:  ''Look  out  for  the  canoe;  the  'longe  is  still 
towing  it  by  the  line  fastened  aboard.  Can't  you  manage  to  catch  it  as  it 
comes  by ! " 

Luckily,  the  fish  changed  its  course  so  as  to  bring  the  taut  line  within  Pierre's 
reach,  and,  quicker  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  he  had  drawn  the  canoe  toward  him, 
thrown  his  body  across  it,  and  scrambled  in.  I  gave  him  a  cheer  of  triumph, 
and  was  answered  by  his  ringing  laugh.  The  'longe,  feeling  the  added  weight  of 
Pierre's  body,  again  rose  at  the  end  of  two  hundred  feet  of  line,  and  I  could  hear 
the  jingle  of  the  spoon  as  the  great  fish  shook  its  head  to  free  itself  of  the  hook. 

"  Bravely  done,  Pierre ;  take  the  paddle  now  and  work  in  toward  shore ;  he 
can't  possibly  break  away ;  he  is  too  well  hooked." 

Then  commenced  a  trial  of  strength  between  the  paddle  and  the  fish  ;  but  as 
the  fish  would  yield  a  little  and  the  boy  would  not,  the  canoe  gradually  approached 
the  shore.  As  soon  as  it  came  within  reach  I  sprang  in,  took  the  line,  and 
commenced  to  haul  in  on  it.  Instead  of  drawing  the  fish  in,  I  drew  the  canoe 
toward  the  fish  until  I  had  taken  aboard  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  line  and 
pulled  clear  of  the  bed  of  weeds,  where  I  was  afraid  w^e  might  lose  our  prize. 
Then  the  'longe  rose  slowly  and  lay  like  a  log  iipon  the  siu-face,  and  it  was  plain 
to  see  that  it  was  getting  discouraged.  It  came  up  again  quite  near  the  canoe, 
and  looked  so  huge  tliat  I  was  afraid  to  try  to  take  it  in  over  the  side ;  the 
landing-net  was  too  frail  to  be  thought  of ;  I  told  Pierre,  therefore,  to  paddle 
toward  the  shore,  being  careful  not  to  let  the  fish  rush  under  the  canoe  so  as 
to  tear  away  the  hook.  We  'gradually  got  into  shallow  water,  and  as  the  'longe 
came  alongside  once  more,  I  seized  it  wnth  the  thunib  and  fingers  of  my  right  hand 
by  the  bony  sockets  of  its  eyes,  and,  holding  on  to  the  line  with  my  left  hand. 


LA y DING   THE   'LONGE. 


337 


Fighting  a  'longe. 

stepped  into  the  water,  towed 
the  fish  ashore,  and  hauknl  it 
out  upon  the  beach.    Pierre 
found  a  heavy  stone,  and  whih^ 
I    hekl   the    muskaUonge   he 
smote  it  upon  the  head,  and 
the  game  was  ours  at  hist. 
What  a  monster  it  was  ! 
It  was  all  Pierre  could  do 
to  lift  it  into  the  canoe,  and  my  h\g  bass  looked  very  small  alonsrside  of  it 

We  were  soon  at  the  scow,  which  constituted  our  floating  camp,  and  had  a 
roaring  fire  in  the  stove.  While  Pierre,  wrapped  in  blankets,  reclined  near 
the  fire  and  waited  for  the  sun  to  dry  his  clothes,  he  said,  with  a  shake  of  the 
head,  and  a  proud  glance  at  the  big  fish  : 

"I  '11  tell  you  what;  for  a  long  time  T  did  n't  know  whether  I  had  the  'longe 
or  the 'longe  had  me,  and  when  I  ])opi)e(l  into  the  water  I  thought  I  was  a 
goner,  sure." 


tei,fe^%>WiJ^«i 


338 


HOYS'  BOOK    OF  SFOliTS. 


When  the  others  came  in,  each  man  lifted  the  huge  fish  and  guessed  at  its 
weight;  the  lowest  guess  was  forty  pounds,  and  the  highest,  forty-five  ;  so  you 
may  ])e  sure  it  was  no  sardine.  We  had  fried  fish,  baked  fish,  and  a  most  deli- 
cious fish-chowder  concocted  by  the  captain.  The  next  day  was  Friday,  and 
John  Franklin,  our  Indian  guide  and  cook,  scooped  a  hole  in  the  gravel  on  shore, 
built  a  big  fire,  and  when  it  had  burnt  down,  he  swept  the  coals  and  ashes  out. 
Then  wrapping  a  great  section  of  the  big  fish  in  heavy  brown  paper,  well  wetted, 
he  laid  it  in  tlie  hole,  covered  it  with  hot  ashes,  and  heaped  the  coals  upon  it ; 
then  he  added  fresh  fuel,  to  keep  his  oven  hot,  and  in  about  two  hours  afterward 
uncovered  it  and  invited  us  to  the  feast. 

We  went  fishing  several  times  afterward  and  took  a  number  of  'longe,  but 
none  of  them  equaled  the  big  one  that  carried  off  Pierre  and  the  canoe,  and 
whose  enormous  head  with  wide-spread  jaws  and  wicked-looking  teeth  looks 
down  from  a  corner  of  the  library  in  the  captain's  Boston  home. 

Mr.  Selby  had  brought  in  a  few  ducks  that  flew  too  temptingly  near  him,  and 
four  ruffed  grouse ;  these  delicious  birds,  roasted,  were  served  by  the  captain 
with  a  dressing  of  bread-crumbs  and  rich-l)rown  gi-avy  as  a  side  dish  to  Pierre's 
'longe,  and  the  recollection  of  that  feast  makes  my  mouth  water  to  this  day. 


HOW  SCIENCE  WON  THE  GAMP 


By  George  B.  M.  Harvey. 


I. —  The  Coxferexce. 


JA('K  HUNT,  pitcher  of  tlie  Stafford  base-ball  clnlj,  was 
in  trouble.  It  was  Monday.  The  final  and  deciding 
game  between  the  Stafford  and  the  Danville  clubs  had  been 
called  for  the  next  Saturday ;  and  "  unless,"  as  Jack  said, 
something  ^'  turned  up,"  his  club  would  be  sure  to  lose  "the 
rubber."  Each  nine  had  won  a  game ;  and  so  they  would 
meet  for  the  final  struggle  on  an  apparently  even  footing. 
But  really  the  chances  greatly  favored  the  Danville  club, 
which  had  recently  taken  in  some  older  players,  who  materi- 
ally strengthened  their  nine.  They  were  all  lusty  young 
fellows.  Not  one  was  under  eighteen  years  of  age,  and 
several  were  out  of  their  teens.  But  Sanborn,  the  Staf- 
ford's first  baseman  and  captain,  was  barely  eighteen,  and  the  ages  of  his  men 
ranged  from  fifteen  to  seventeen. 

Jack  Hunt  was  a  well-built  lad  of  sixteen,  which  was  also  tlie  age  of  Winfield 
Scott  Hancock  Bliss,  the  Stafford  catcher. 

And  I  must  say  a  word,  also,  at  the  outset,  about  Win.  He  was  a  Boston  boy, 
spending  his  summer  on  the  farm  l)elonging  to  Jack's  father,  who  happened  to 
be  his  uncle.  He  was  of  a  rather  short  and  tliick-set  figure,  with  big  black  eyes 
that  glowed  like  coals  of  fire  when  he  was  excited.  Win  had  made  good  use  of 
the  gymnasium  at  school  in  the  city  and  was  really  quite  an  athlete.  He  could 
jump  two  feet  farther  and  nearly  three  feet  higher  than  any  of  his  Stafford 
friends.  Any  other  mem])er  of  the  nine  could  tlirow  him  in  a  wrestle,  but  not 
one  of  them  could  knock  off  his  cap. 

'"  You  have  the  strength,"  he  used  to  say  to  them,  '*  but  I  tell  you  '  science '  is 
the  thing  that  wins  !  " 


340  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

After  supper,  that  Monday,  Jack  and  Win  started  together  for  the  village, 
where  a  conference  of  the  nine  was  to  be  held  on  the  piazza  of  the  main  store. 
The  pitchei-'s  face  was  still  gloomy,  for  lie  knew  from  sad  experience  that  the 
Dan\dlle  fellows  asked  no  better  sport  than  to  bat  his  pitching.  The  other 
players  were  less  downcast,  but  all  looked  serious.  The  whole  club  was  on  hand 
in  answer  to  tlie  call.  Besides  the  pitcher  and  catcher,  there  were  Captain  San- 
born, first  baseman;  Will  Bailey,  third  baseman;  Harley  Esden,  short-stop; 
Jack  Steele,  left-field ;  Am  Ricker,  center ;  and  Sim  Chirke,  right. 

The  dignified  captain  called  the  meeting  to  order. 

"  I  have  asked  for  this  meeting,"  he  said,  clearing  his  throat,  "  to  see  what  was 
best  to  be  done  about  the  Danville  game.  We  all  know  that  we  've  only  a  small 
prospect  of  winning.  We  play  just  as  good  a  game  in  the  field  as  the  Danville 
fellows,  but  we  can't  begin  to  equal  them  at  the  bat.  I  went  to  see  them  play  the 
Barnets  on  Saturday,  and  I  tell  you  they  hit  very  hard.  Besides,  they  have  a 
new  pitcher,  and  he  throws  like  lightning." 

"  Then  we  might  just  as  well  give  it  up  in  advance,"  said  Jack,  whose  small 
amount  of  courage  had  already  slowly  oozed  away. 

"  No,  sir,  we  're  going  to  play  'em,  anyhow,"  responded  the  resolute  captain. 
"  And  we  have  just  one  chance  of  beating  them ;  and  that  is  to  break  up  their 
batting." 

"  You  '11  have  to  put  in  a  new  pitcher,  then,"  returned  Jack. 

"Nonsense.  There  is  no  use  talking  about  that,"  said  Captain  Sanborn. 
"  Yoii  're  the  best  pitcher  in  the  nine,  Jack, —  by  all  odds  the  best.  I  do  wish, 
though " 

"  Well,  what  f  "  said  Jack,  as  the  captain  hesitated. 

"  I  wish  you  could  learn  to  curve  'em.     Don't  you  suppose  you  coidd  ? " 

"  I  know  I  can't,"  was  Jack's  despondent  answer.  "  I  've  tried,  and  tried,  but 
can  not  get  the  trick  of  it." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then  began  a  long  discussion,  in  which 
his  fellow-players  sought  both  to  cheer  Jack's  drooping  spirits  and  to  devise 
some  plan  of  action  that  should  j)romise  to  bring  them  success  in  the  great  game 
to  be  played  on  Saturday. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  the  captain,  finally,  ''  let  every  man  do  the  best  he  can  — 
that 's  all.  We  must  keep  our  courage  up.  We  've  beaten  them  once  and  we 
may  beat  tliem  again.  And  if  not,  we  '11  make  them  earn  the  victory,  at  any 
rate." 

So  the  sober  conference  was  ended  and  the  boys  walked  slowly  to  their  homes. 
Late  in  the  night  Win  heard  Jack  mutter  in  his  sleep,  "  If  I  only  coidd  curve 
'em ! " 


HOW  SCIENCE    WOiY  THE   GAME.  341 


ir. —  TiiH  Curves. 


ill-  ( 

;)flli. 

;  sl('('])y 

("() 

liic,  (' 

(IIIIC  1  "' 

:-l    ] 

last    1 

liirht?" 

"  Wake  up,  Jack !     Wnkv  up,  ([uiek  !  "  .s(;reame(l  Win  in  tht 
pitelior  the  uext  moriiiiij^.     '^  I  have  an  idea  —  a  gi'eat  selienic 

''  What 's  the  row  ?"  grunted  Jack,  rubbinij^  his  eyes. 

"Did  you  see  that  tall  fellow,  in  the  checked  suit,  at  tlic  li 
asked  Win. 

Jack  nodded  sleepily. 

'^  Well,  sir,  he  is  the  base-ball  editor  of  the  l^oston  Tnaii/xf.  1  "w  sure  of  it. 
I  knew  I  'd  seen  him  before,  and  it  just  flashed  \\\)(n\  nic  where  He  is  just  the 
man  we  want.     Hurry,  or  he  '11  have  gone  !  " 

"  What  if  he  has?  he  can't  play  for  us,"  said  Jack. 

"  I  know  that.  But  don't  you  understand.  Are  you  asleep  yet .'  JI<  7/  sIkjw 
you  Jiow  to  curve  !  " 

"  W-h-a-at ! "     Jack  was  wide  awake  now. 

"  Curves,  curves, —  don't  you  see  1  He  knows  all  about  'em,"  said  Win,  eagerly. 
"  Come  on  ! " 

It  took  Jack  just  ten  minutes,  by  Win's  watcli,  to  dress,  l)reakfast,  and  start 
on  the  run  for  the  summer  hotel. 

When  they  sent  up  their  names,  they  received  in  answer  the  message  that 
"  the  gentleman  was  not  up  yet,  but  would  they  not  waitf  " 

■'  Waif !  well,  I  should  say  so ! "  replied  Jack,  with  unnecessary  energy. 

An  hour  later,  a  tall,  pleasant-looking  young  man  sauntered  into  the  office 
from  the  breakfast-room.  It  was  the  base-ball  editor  of  the  Trumpet,  just 
arrived  to  spend  a  short  vacation  among  the  Green  Mountains. 

Win  was  nervous,  as  he  advanced  to  meet  them. 

"  Is  this  —  the  —  Trumpet  f  "  he  finally  burst  out. 

''What  did  you  sayf "  inquired  the  young  man. 

''I  mean,"  corrected  the  stammering  catcher,  "is  this  the  base-ball  editor  of 
the  Trumpet  ?  " 

The  young  man  finished  lighting  a  cigar,  l)lew  a  whiff  of  smoke,  and  acknowl- 
edged his  identity  with  a  nod. 

"  Well,  sir,  we  want  the  *  curves,'  please,"  said  eager  Win. 

"  The  whit  ?  "  asked  the  young  man  wouderingly,  while  Jack  sidled  toward 
the  door. 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  never  was  so  stupid  ! "  replied  Win,  hastily.  "  Wliy,  we 
came  to  ask  if  you  would  n't  show  our  pitcher  how  to  ciu-ve  'em.  We  're  to  play 
a  match  game  next  Saturday,  and  we  've  got  to  do  something  desperate  or  we  '11 
get  beaten  out  of  our  boots.     Can't  you  show  him  how  to  curve  ? " 

The  now  enlightened  base-ball  editor  smiled,  blew  another  whiff  of  smoke, 
winked,  and  asked,  "  Where  is  he  ?" 

"  Who  ?  "  inquired  Win. 


342  BOYS'   BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

"  Your  pitcher,  of  course.  You  don't  waut  the  right-fielder  to  curve,  do 
you  ? " 

"  Of  course  not/'  said  Win,  Liughing.  '•  Here  's  our  pitcher.  Jack,  this  is  the 
base-ball  editor  of  the  Trumpet:'' 

Jack  bowed  and  the  base-ball  editor  held  out  his  hand  and  looked  carefully  at 
Jack's. 

"  Are  you  strong  in  the  wrist  ? "  he  finally  asked. 

**  Yes,  sir,  I  think  so,"  said  Jack. 

**  Let  me  feel  your  arm." 

Jack  extended  it  toward  him,  saying:  "I  ought  to  have  some  muscle;  I've 
worked  on  the  farm  all  summer." 

*'  You  did  n't  get  that  bunch  there,  in  working  on  the  farm,"  observed  the 
base-ball  editor,  pressing  the  muscle  on  the  outside  of  Jack's  fore-arm,  near  the 
elbow. 

*'  No,  sir,  I  did  n't,"  said  Jack,  in  a  surprised  tone. 

"  You  got  that  by  pitching,"  continued  the  young  man.  ''  You  must  have 
pitched  a  good  while,  for  a  youngster." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  responded  Jack,  in  unfeigned  astonishment. 

''Well,  my  young  friends,"  said  the  base-ball  editor,  after  smoking  for  a 
minute  in  silence,  ''  I  take  you  to  be  in  earnest,  and  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do. 
Out  behind  the  hotel  is  an  empty  piano  box.  I  saw  it  from  my  window,  this 
morning.  Go  and  prop  that  up  on  its  sides,  measure  off  fifty  feet  from  it  and 
mark  the  spot.  Then,  at  about  half-way  between  the  box  and  the  marked  spot, 
drive  a  stake  five  or  six  feet  high  into  the  ground.  By  the  time  you  shall  have 
done  that,  I  '11  have  finished  my  cigar,  and  will  come  out  and  see  if  we  can  meet 
the  emergency." 

Fifteen  minutes  later,  the  two  eager  boys,  having  carried  out  the  young  man's 
directions,  saw  the  tall  form  of  their  new  friend  emerge  from  the  back  door-way 
of  the  hotel. 

''  Now,  that  piano  box,"  remarked  the  base-ball  editor,  taking  a  league  ball 
from  his  pocket,  ''  we  '11  say,  is  resting  on  the  home  base.  This  spot,  fifty  feet 
away,  is  the  pitcher's  place.  I  will  stand  here  facing  the  box  and  hold  out  my 
arm  (with  the  ball  in  my  hand)  at  right  angles  with  a  line  running  straight  from 
here  to  the  box.  Now,  one  of  you  stand  here  behind  me  and  take  a  squint 
over  the  ball,  with  the  stake  as  a  'sight,' and  let  the  other  mark  the  place  on 
the  box,  which  the  '  squinter'  says  is  in  a  straight  line  from  the  ball,  as  I  am 
holding  it." 

Win  "  squinted,"  and  Jack  made  a  straight  mark,  toward  the  ground,  on  the 
piano  box.     Both  boys  were  decddedly  mystified. 

"Now," asked  the  base-ball  editor,  "a  l)all  going  straight  from  my  hand  and 
just  missing  the  stake  will  hit  the  chalk-niark  on  the  box;  will  it  ?" 

''  Yes,  sir,"  rei)lied  Win,  promptly. 


Htm-  s<iksi;f,  won  tiif.  came. 


343 


^.■J^ 


VM 


^xu 


A'       '.I*.\^/ 


^^'t^W^ 


boy.' 


the  art  of  "curving." 


"Then,  if  it  strikes  to  tlie  l(4"t  of  tlie  mark,  it  will  have  to  curve;  will  it?" 
was  the  next  question. 

''  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Win,  again. 

''Then,  here  goes! "  said  the  base-ball  editor;  and  taking  the  l)all  in  his  right 
hand,  he  pressed  it  an  instant  with  his  left,  and  then  threw  it  sharply.  The  ball 
passed  about  six  inches  to  the  right  of  the  stake,  and  yet  struck  the  box  two  or 
three  inches  to  the  left  of  the  chalk  mark. 

"It  must  have  curved  eight  inches,"  observed  Win  with  "  scientific  "  accuracy. 

Jack  tossed  the  ball,  and  the  young  man  threw  again.  This  time  the  ball  just 
missed  the  stake  on  the  right,  and  struck  at  least  a  foot  to  the  left  of  the  mark. 

"  That  was  better,"  remarked  the  base-ball  editor,  in  a  satisfied  tone.  "  Now, 
come  here,  Mr.  Young  Pitcher,  and  I  '11  show  you  how  to  do  it." 

"I  don't  believe  I  ever  can,"  responded  Jack,  but  with  a  face  as  eager  as  a 
child's. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can  !  "  said  the  young  man.  "  There  's  nothing  like  knowing 
how.     First,  take  the  ball  between  your  thumb  and  forefinger.     Don't  let  yoiu- 


344 


BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 


other  fingers  touch  it.     There,  that 's  right !     Now,  press  it  down  so  it  will  just 
touch  the  cord  connecting  ytnir  thumb  and  finger.     Correct!     Now,  pinch  it 
fi(jht  with  the  end  of  your  thumb  and  throw  from  your  hip." 
The  ball  struck  to  the  right  of  the  mark. 

*'  No  curve  to  that,''  said  the  instructor.     ''  Pinch  tighter  and  give  a  sharp, 
quick  jerk  when  you  throw." 
The  ball  struck  the  mark. 

^'  That 's  better,"  was  the  encouraging  comment.  "  Try  again,  and  don't  hurry 
about  it !     Keep  cool !  " 

Jack  had  now  almost  overcome  his  nervousness  and  did  as  he  was  told. 
The  ball  just  missed  the  stake  and  struck  the  box  six  inches  to  the  left  of  the 
mark. 

'^  Hurrah  !     You  've  caught  the  trick ! "  cried  Win,  throwing  up  his  cap. 
Jack  tried  again  and  again,  finally  making  the  ball  strike  nearly  as  far  from 
the  chalk-line  as  his  teacher  had  sent  it. 

"  Very  good,  indeed,  for  a  beginner ! "  said  the  base-ball  editor,  heartily. 
"  That  is  called  the  '  out '  curve.  Now  we  '11  try  the  '  in '  curve.  You  '11  find  it 
harder  to  manage.  Bend  your  thumb  at  the  first  joint,  place  the  ball  on  your 
knuckle  and  hold  it  firmly  with  your  first  two  fingers.  Don't  let  your  other 
fingers  touch  it.  Throw  from  near  your  knee,  at  first,  and  on  the  left  side  of  the 
stake." 
Jack  threw  swiftly,  and  the  ball  struck  the  mark. 
"  Now,  again,  and  pinch  tight,"  was  the  command. 

Again  Jack  threw,  and  this  time  he  made  the  ball  strike  two  or  three  inches  to 
the  right  of  the  mark. 

''  That  is  much  better  than  I  expected,"  said  the  base-ball  editor.  "  Why,  you 
're  a  natural  ])iteher  !     Now  all  you  want  is  practice.     Use  the  stake  awhile  and 

then  pitch  over  a  base.  Prac- 
tice as  much  as  you  can  without 
laming  your  arm.  There  are 
other  curves,  the  'up,'  and  the 
'  down,'  besides  what  is  called  the 
'  shoot,'  but  these  two  will  be 
enough  for  you  to  learn  between 
now  and  Saturday." 

"  I  'm   everlastingly   obliged," 
said  Jack,  warmly. 

''You  need  n't  thank  me," 
responded  the  base-ball  editor, 
smiling  at  Jack's  enthusiastic  expression  of  gratitude.  "  But  I  shall  be  inter- 
ested in  your  work  on  Saturday.  Will  you  let  me  know  the  result  of  the  game 
when  you  come  back  from  the  match  ? " 


1.  For  the  "out"  dirvc, 


Diagrams  showing  how  to  hold  the  ball  for  "curving. 


HOW  SCIENCE    WON  THE  GAME. 


:545 


''Yes  indeed!"  answered  Jack,  heartily,  and  the  two  hoys  hade  a  ^miteful 
adieu  tJ  the  youni,'  man,  and  went  j^'ayly  otf  to  the  base-})all  j-ronnds  for  furtlier 

practice.  .  . 

"I  tell  yon,  Jack,"  said  Win,  as  they  Avalked  rapidly  ahni-,  "  s<-ience  is  tlie 

thing  that  wins." 


Q/'^^J' 


III.— The  Gajie. 


S(>MEWTI\T   to 

"VVin's  surprise,  the 
ereat  day  arrived  on 
time.  And  so  did  the  rick- 
ety old  country  stage,  as  it  drew 
up  with  a  flourish  at  the  Danville 
ball  ground,  and  was  greeted  with  a  cheer.  Out  clambered  the  Stafford  nine. 
They  looked  very  neat  in  their  bright  new  uniforms ;  but  the  spectators  could 
not  help  remarking  the  physical  superiority  of  the  Danville  players. 

"  We  're  going  to  have  a  perfect  '  walk-over,' "  remarked  one  of  the  Danvilh^ 
nine,  lazily  twirling  a  bat,  as  the  Stafford  l>oys  threw  off  their  coats. 

Jack's  quick  ears  caught  the  remarks,  and  his  blue  eyes  flashed  with  indigna- 
tion.    "  We  '11  see  about  that ! "  he  muttered. 

Jack  had  followed  his  instructions  faithfully,  and  he  felt  confident  of  his 
ability  to  puzzle  his  opponents.  Win,  however,  was  less  certain,  and  he 
whispered  to  Jack : 

"  Don't  lose  your  head." 

The  base-ball  editor's  parting  injunction,  that  morning,  had  been  : 

"  Keep  cool  and  pinch  tight." 

Captain  Sanborn  of  the  Staffords  won  the  toss  and  chose  the  field.  The  boys 
scattered  quickly  to  their  various  positions,  and  the  ball  was  thrown  to  the 
pitcher.     But  no  sooner  had  Jack  received  the  signal  to  play  than  he  had  an 


346  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPORTS. 

attack  of  *' stage-fright."  His  nerves  tingled,  and  his  knees  shook.  It  was 
really  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  he  had  never  pitched  before  so  large  a  crowd, 
and  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  the  game  depended  on  him.  It  was  a  trying 
position  for  any  lad,  and  especially  so  for  Jack,  who,  as  Win  said,  was  apt  to 
"  lose  his  head." 

"  Low  ball !  "  called  the  umpire. 

Jack  threw  quickly,  and  the  ball  whizzed  away  over  the  striker's  head,  strik- 
ing the  catcher's  fence.  A  titter  ran  through  the  opposing  nine.  This  bit  of 
discourtesy  was  too  much  for  Jack  in  his  nervous  condition.  He  threw  wildly 
and  became  first  excited  and  then  reckless.  Two  men  went  to  first  base  on 
called  balls,  and  five  made  safe  hits.  When  the  wretched  inning  was  finally 
ended,  the  Dauvilles  had  scored  five  runs.  Jack  did  not  try  to  conceal  his 
mortification. 

Abe  Blanchard  was  the  first  Stafford  batsman.  He  was  considered  a  good 
hitter,  but  he  retired  on  three  strikes,  saying  that  the  pitching  was  too  swift  for 
him. 

Steele  sent  an  easy  fly  to  the  second  baseman,  was  caught  out,  and  Win 
stepped  to  the  plate.  He  was  not  embarrassed  or  nervous,  and  he  hit  a  sharp 
grounder  between  the  short-stop  and  the  third  baseman.  The  left-fielder  was 
over-confident  and  let  it  pass  him,  and  Win  made  two  bases. 

"  Hunt  to  bat ! "  called  the  scorer. 

Jack's  face  still  burned,  but  his  teeth  were  clenched.  He  struck  the  first  baU 
pitched  with  all  his  strength  and  sent  a  fly  just  over  the  center-fielder.  Win  got 
in  and  saved  a  whitewash.  The  next  striker  was  put  out,  but  the  cheering  of 
the  crowd  brought  Jack  to  his  senses.  He  walked  steadily  to  the  pitehei-'s  box, 
perfectly  cool  and  collected. 

'•  Play  !  "  called  the  umpire. 

Jack  pressed  the  ball  into  his  right  hand,  pinched  it  tight,  took  a  deliberate 
step  forward  and  threw  it.  The  batsman  struck  at  it,  l)ut  the  Ijall  passed  at 
least  six  inches  from  the  end  of  his  bat.  Win  smiled.  Another  ball  followed, 
with  the  same  result.  Jack's  confidence  had  now  returned,  and  "Win's  black 
eyes  flashed  re-assuringly  behind  the  catcher's  mask.  The  next  ball  started 
directly  toward  the  striker,  who  stepped  (piickly  back  to  avoid  being  hit.  But 
his  act  was  unnecessary.  The  ball  curved  neatly  over  the  base  and  lodged  safely 
in  Win's  hands. 

"  Three  strikes,  and  out !  "  cried  the  i)leased  umpire. 

The  batsman  was  puzzled.  He  looked  at  the  umpire,  at  his  bat,  and  finally  at 
Jack.     But  Win  understood.     It  was  the  ''out"  curve. 

"  Science  is  the  thing  that  wins,"  the  catcher  whispered  softly  to  himself. 

Two  more  strikers  were  retired  in  (juick  order,  one  having  struck  a  foul 
ball,  which  was  easily  caught  by  Win.  It  was  a  whitewash  for  the  Danvilles. 
Not  a  man  had  reached  the  first  base  or  had  even  left  the  home  base.     What 


i/Oir  SCIENCE    WON  THE   GAME. 


347 


U:.jl' 


'Win  made  one  of  his  famous  jumps  and  went  over  the  catcher's  back. 


conld  it  mean  f  The  Danville  players  looked  at  each  other  wonderiii^ly,  and  the 
audience  smiled  and  concluded  that  it  might  be  an  interesting  game,  after  all. 

From  that  time  on,  the  Stafifords  steadily  won.  The  swift  pitching  was  hard 
to  hit,  but  they  had  regained  their  courage  and  they  did  very  well.  The  Dan- 
villes  soon  saw  how  the  balls  were  curving  from  them  and  they  batted  more 
prudently.  Then  Jack  tried  the  "in"  curve.  But  they  would  hit  even  his 
curves  occasionally,  and  in  trying  to  vary  his  delivery,  he  let  two  or  three 
strikers  take  bases  on  called  balls.  The  game  became  interesting.  At  the  end 
of  the  eighth  inning  the  score  stood  twelve  to  eleven  in  favor  of  the  Danvilles. 
They  went  to  the  bat  for  the  last  time,  and  Jack  was  on  his  mettle.  The 
strikers  retired  in  one, —  two, —  three  order. 

The  Staffords  came  in  to  close  the  inning.  But  the  history  of  that  half-inning 
was  best  told  by  Jack  to  his  friend,  the  base-ball  editor,  late  that  niglit. 

"Well,"  began  Jack,  when  he  reached  this  point  in  his  narrative,  "Am  Ricker 
went  up  first  for  us,  and  he  was  so  flustered,  he  struck  out.     Abe  Blanchard  hit 


348  BOYS'  BOOK   OF  SPOUTS. 

a  good  grounder  to  third,  but  the  ball  got  to  first  before  he  did.  Then  Steele 
went  in  and  was  given  his  base  on  called  balls.  And  there  we  were !  If  they 
whitewashed  us,  we  were  beaten,  but  if  we  could  get  in  one  run,  we  should  tie 
'em ;  and  two  runs  would  give  us  the  game.  Win  was  next,  and  he  never  fails.  He 
made  a  *  daisy '  hit.  It  was  a  liner  just  over  the  short-stop's  head,  and  the  left- 
fielder  fumbled  again,  so  Win  got  his  second.  Then  it  was  my  turn.  Well,  sir, 
it  was  so  still  when  I  stepped  to  the  plate  that  I  honestly  believe  you  could  have 
heard  a  pin  drop  on  the  grass.  But  I  was  just  as  cool  as  a  cucumber.  I  'd 
mastered  all  my  nonsensical  nervousness. 

"  Well,  I  waited  till  I  got  a  ball  that  just  suited  me,  and  then  I  sent  it  right  down 
by  the  first  base.  The  baseman  did  n't  capture  it,  though ;  and  Steele  came  in 
from  third  and  Win  started  from  second.  I  never  once  thought  of  his  trying  to 
get  home,  for  the  right-fielder  had  the  ball  in  quick  time,  though  I  was  safe  on 
first.  But,  sir.  Win  never  stopped  at  third;  and,  jimimy ! — how  he  did  run! 
The  catcher  saw  him  coming  and  yelled  for  the  ball.  He  was  a  short  fellow, 
that  catcher,  but  he  was  so  afraid  that  Win  would  slide  under  him  that  he  stood 
right  in  the  line  about  three  feet  from  the  home  base.  The  right-fielder  had 
thrown  the  ball  to  the  second  baseman,  and  he  threw  it  home  when  he  heard  the 
catcher  call  for  it.  The  ball  came  right  to  the  catcher's  knees  ;  he  stooped  and 
caught  it,  and  reached  around  instantly  to  touch  Win.  But  he  did  n't  touch 
him.  For,  just  as  he  stooped.  Win  made  one  of  his  famous  jumps,  and  went 
clear  over  the  catcher's  back,  striking  both  feet  on  the  home  base  ! 

"  Well,  sir,  you  should  have  seen  that  catcher's  face  when  he  turned  round  and 
saw  Win  behind  him.  I  just  lay  down  on  the  grass,  and  kicked  my  feet  in  the 
air  and  screamed  !  And  the  crowd,  didn't  they  cheer!  I  never  heard  such  a 
noise  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  or  at  any  other  time,  and  I  never  saw  Win's  eyes 
so  big  and  bright.  But  all  he  'd  say  was  what  lie  always  says:  'I  tell  you, 
boys,  science  is  the  thing  that  wins  ! '     Oh  !  you  ought  to  have  been  there  !  " 

''  I  wish  I  had  been  there,  I  'm  sure,"  said  the  base-ball  editor,  regretfully. 
''  But  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  am  going  to  do, —  I  'm  going  to  write  out  a  report  of 
that  game." 

And  he  did.     This  is  it. 


THE    END. 


INDEX 


/, ,  ' 


,, P^^^y^^ 


% iii'uL. 


INDEX. 


Alligator-shootinp:,  120. 

Amateur  Pliotography  (see  Camera;. 

Aroliory,  Antiquity  of,  177  ;  Cross-bow  in,  177  ; 
Belf-yew  Bow  best  for,  181;  Lancewood 
Bow,  181 ;  Size  of  Bow,  182  ;  Ai-row  used  in, 
182  ;  Weight  of  Arrow  in,  183  ;  Requisites  in, 
183,  184  ;  Position  In,  185  ;  Methods  in,  185- 
187 ;  Rules  for,  187  ;  Best  Scores  in,  188 ;  In 
Heron-hunting,  189;  Noiselessness  of,  in 
hunting,  192. 

Arrow  (see  Ai'chery). 

Base-ball  Curves,  343  ;  Rule  for,  344. 

Bass,  Flv-fishing  for  Black,  141. 

Beach,  Camp   at,  246;    Outfit  for,  247;   Cost 

of,  248. 
Bear,  Shooting  a,  90. 
Birds,  Laws  against  killing  (see  Insect-eating 

Birds). 
Bittern,  30. 
Boats,    How  to   rig  and  sail,   199;    Tacking, 

202  ;  Jibing,  206 ;  Landing,  210 ;  Position  of 

safety  in,  209  ;  How  to  make,  211. 
Bone-team,  a,  331. 
Bow  (see  Archery). 
Boys'  Camps,  Design  of,  258. 
Bullet,  Force  of  a  Falling,  37. 

Catamount  (see  Wild-Cat). 

Clapper-rail,  98. 

Camera,  The  Amateur,  291 ;    Apparatus   for, 

292  (see   Out-of-door  Photography;   Indoor 

Photography). 
Camp  in  Woods,  233 ;  Mattress  and  Bed,  236  ; 

Oven,  237  ;  Fire-place,  23S ;    Conveniences, 

239  (see  also  Camp  Choconia :  Beach,  ("ainj) 

;it;  Sch(ii)l  iiitln- Woods;  Camp  Harvard,  etc.) 
CanipCiHH-oni;i.  -J.VJ. 
Camp  Huvvnrd,  2:.7. 
Camping  Out  (see   Beach ;    Camp   Chocorua, 

etc.) 
Casting  a  Line,  143,  153,  157. 
Catamaran,    How    to    build,    215 ;    Absolute 

safety  of,  215,  220. 
Cat-fish,  "Jugging "for,  171. 
Cavalli,  Fishing  for,  112. 
"Clay  Pigeons  "  (see  Trap-shooting 
Cross-bow  (see  Archery.) 


Crusoe  Raft,  226. 

Curve,  How  to  (see  Base-ball). 

Curve-pitching  (see  Base-ball). 

"Dig-out,"  a,  333. 

Diving,  272. 

Dogs,  Bird  (see  Setters:   Pointers). 

"Double  Birds," 76, 128 ;  in  Trap-shooting,  1.35. 

Double,  Killing  a  (see  "Double  Birds"). 

Dove-shooting,  50. 

Draw-shot,  a,  70. 

Fish-ear,  A  floating,  229. 

Fish-spearing  through  ice,  Indian  method, 
322  ;  Improved  method  for  Boys,  323. 

Flag-fishing,  173. 

Flat-boats,  How  to  make,  222  (see  also  Cru- 
soe Raft,  and  Man  Friday  Catamaran). 

Floating,  272. 

Fly-book,  a,  144. 

Fly-fishing,  142 ;  for  Black  Bass  (see  Bass) ; 
Tackle,  142,  151 ;  Costume  for,  144 ;  Position 
in,  146 ;  forTrout  (see  Trout) ;  Rods  for,  151 ; 
Lines  for,  152 ;  Flies,  152 ;  for  Salmon  (see 
Salmon), 

Fox-Squirrel,  86. 

Grouse,  Pinnated  (see  Prairie  -  Chicken) ; 
Ruffed,  71. 

Gun,  How  to  handle,  12;  For  Boys,  4.5,  47,  7o, 
123 ;  Rules  for  using,  123 ;  Manufacture  of 
Ban-els  for,  29 ;  Never  drop  a,  55 ;  Care 
in  handling,  123-125;  Hammerless,  123; 
Breech-loading,  123  ;  Shells  for,  123 ;  Pat- 
leniing  a,  47;  A  choke-bored,  134;  Position 
in  using.  12, 136  (see  also  Trap-shooting,  etc.) 

Heatli-cock  (see  Ruffed  Grouse). 

Heron,  Snowy,  101,  192;  Great  Blue.  102,  192; 
How  to  shoot  a,  102;  Shooting  with  Bow, 
189 ;  White,  191 ;  Louisiana,  192 ;  Little  Blue, 
192;  Great  White,  194:  Phosphorescent, 
195 ;  Eggs  of,  196 ;  Rookery  of,  196. 

Horseback  Trips  (see  Riding). 


Ibis,  Scarlet,  107. 
Ice-boat,  How  to  mak( 
313. 


!10:  Cost  of  making, 


352 


INDEX. 


Ice,    Fish-spearing  through   (see   Fish-spear- 

iiig). 
Indoor  Photograpliy,  294,  299. 
Insect-eating    Birds,    Laws    against    killing, 

3,  9,  10. 

Jack-Rabbits,  329. 
"Jugging"  (see  Cat-Fish). 
Juiupiug-jack  Fishing,  172. 

Liquid-Amber,  69, 

Log-cock  (see  Woodpecker). 

Lost  in  the  Woods,  Rules  for  safety  when,  282. 

Man  Friday  Catamaran,  229. 
Markct-liuiiter,  a,  18,  33,  74. 
I\Iast.  Stcpiunga,  200. 
Missile-shooting  (see  Trap-shooting). 
Muscadines  (grapes),  244. 

Outfit  for  School  in  the  Woods  (see  School 
in  the  Woods) ;  For  Camping  at  Beach  (see 
Beach). 

Out-of-door  Photography,  294. 

Panther,  Killing  a,  115. 
Photogi'aphy  (see  Camera). 
Pinnated  Grouse  (see  Prairie-Chieken). 
Pointers,  26,  124. 
"Poke-shot,"  a,  22,  124. 
Prairie-Chickeii,  11. 

Quail,  Rules  for  shooting,  66,  125 ;  Habits  of, 
69;  Shot  for  Hunting,  123. 

Rescue  from  Drowning,  273. 
Riding,  Suggestions  for,  285. 
Ruffed  Grouse  (see  Grouse). 
Running,  Rules  for,  286. 


Sails,  Leg-of-mutton,  204;  Latteen  Rig,  205; 
Balance  Lug  for,  206 ;  Reefing,  208. 

Salmon,  Localities  for,  159  ;  Qualities  of,  160 ; 
Habits  of,  160  ;  Different  Forms  of,  160  ;  Fly- 
fishing for,  167. 

School  in  the  Woods,  241. 

Setters,  11. 

Shaft  (see  Archery). 

Skate-sails,  How  to  make,  315 ;  Rules  for 
using,  318. 

Snake-bird,  103. 

Snap-shot,  a,  26,  124. 

Snipe-shooting,  98,  107. 

Sponger,  a,  109. 

Spoon-bill,  Roseate,  104. 

Swimming,  a  Talk  about,  269;  Positions  in, 
271 ;  Life  Rescue  in,  273  ;  in  Under-tow,  275. 

Taking  your  own  Portrait,  300. 
Thunder-Pumper  (see  Bittern). 
Toboggan,  How  to  make  a,  308. 
Trap-shooting,     92;    Hints    on,    133;     "Clay 

Pigeons,"  in,  133  ;  Rules  for,  135. 
Treading  Water,  272. 
Trout,  Fly-fishing  for,  149 ;  Various  Kinds  of, 

150 ;  Best  Localities  for,  155 ;  Best  Season 

for,  156. 

Under-tow  (see  Swimming). 

Walking,  Equipment  in,  278  ;  Suggestions  for, 

279 ;  Routes  for,  283. 
Walton,  Izaak,  141. 
Wild-Cat,  Appearance  of,  55. 
Will-o'-tbe-Wisp,  121. 
"Wiped  Your  Eye,"  128. 
Woodpecker,  Pileated,  60 ;  Ivory-billed,  104 ; 

Great  American  Woodpecker,  243. 
Woods,  School  in  the  (see  School). 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


'mr 


^f, 


REC'D  L" 


h 


FEB  2  2 '65 -3  PM 


jwt-ainrD 


^. 


B3il 


*^^S5? 


DE0  3V19S0 


«An8fi9^ 


15^ 


\^ 


\990 


LD  21A-60ni-4.'64 
(E4555sl0)476B 


G«aeral  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


YD  063\5 
U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CQaDBMVbMO 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
BIdg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made 
4  days  prior  to  due  date 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

OCT  2  «  ^00^ 


DD20   12M   1-05 


